


Unexpected

by LynMars79



Series: Aeryn Striker [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Almost Kiss, Angst, Arguments, Dancing, Demisexual Warrior of Light, Dirty Talk, Dreams, Established Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Heavensward, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Masturbation, Midlander Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Tension, Sparring, Stormblood, Teasing, Time Skips, a realm reborn, friendly wagers, gifts left in locked rooms, shadowbringers, silliness, stress relief sex, table of contents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynMars79/pseuds/LynMars79
Summary: Funny things happen when you spend enough time saving the world together. She never expected understanding. He never expected trust.(the writer didn’t expect this ship, but here we are).A series of scenes in the course of a relationship throughout FFXIV’s story. See the Ch1 Table of Contents; specific NSFW chapters are marked.Most recent: "Dawn", "Aetherytes", and "Celebration"
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: Aeryn Striker [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632130
Comments: 140
Kudos: 122





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> A collection thread for various scenes in the relationship between midlander Warrior of Light Aeryn Striker and a certain charming Scion. Some were originally posted to my [autumnslance](https://autumnslance.tumblr.com) Tumblr and revised before archiving here.
> 
> My timeline is roughly a year-ish per expansion story, with Stormblood taking a little longer, while in Shadowbringers more time passes on the First than on the Source to even things out a little.
> 
> Tags will update as needed.

Aeryn and Thancred's relationship from colleagues to friends to eventually lovers.

Newer scenes added to the end normally before later finding their way into chronological order.

* * *

2\. The Way He Talks - Yda works out Aeryn's response to being flirted at by Thancred. Early ARR 2.0 timeframe.

3\. Sandstorm - On Aeryn's first mission for the Scions, she and Thancred take shelter from a storm and talk. Early ARR.

4\. Dawn - Watching the first dawn of the 7th Astral Era. ARR 2.0 ending.

5\. Humidity - A dance in Revenant’s Toll. ARR patches.

6\. Aetherytes - Returning to civilization, Thancred tries to handle his new condition without his comrades finding out. HW 3.1.

7\. Sparring - Tensions run high just before the Tournament. HW 3.2.

8\. Afterimages - NSFW; Thancred the morning after “Sparring”. HW 3.2.

9\. Flowers - Short; a gift left in a locked room. Sometime during HW patches.

10\. Realizations - Thancred confides in Y'shtola about his reluctant feelings for Aeryn. Early Stormblood 4.0.

11\. Restless - NSFW; Aeryn arrives in Kugane, but cannot keep her mind on the current mission quite yet. Early StB 4.0.

12\. Girl Talk - Lyse and Aeryn discuss crushes and concerns during Stormblood's "The Lady in Red" quest.

13\. Make it Better - Important talk the night before Ala Mhigo. End of StB 4.0.

14\. Please - NSFW; in the Ala Mhigo palace, post-Throne Room Summoning. StB 4.1.

15\. Betting Pool - Everyone has noticed. StB 4.4.

16\. Descriptions - Young Minfilia asks Thancred about Aeryn. Pre/Early ShB 5.0

17\. Rak’tika Rendezvous - NSFW; exploration and concerned talk post-Qitana Ravel. ShB 5.0.

18\. Market Conversation - Thancred and Emet-Selch have a chat. Late ShB 5.0

19\. When the Time Comes - Aeryn asks a favor of Thancred. Late ShB 5.0

20\. Tomorrow, Tonight - NSFW; rewrite/continuation of "Tomorrow" in _Striking Fate_. Sometime in ShB patches 5.0-5.3.

21\. Unsupervised, Again - Aeryn relies on a friend's excuse when explaining a mistake. Sometime in ShB patches 5.0-5.3.

22\. Of Porxies and Pardons - Thancred is bullied by teenagers into resolving a post-Eden's Verse fight with Aeryn. Sometime in ShB patches 5.0-5.3.

23\. Indecent Whispers - NSFW; Thancred gets bored and challenges Aeryn's sense of public propriety. ShB post 5.3

24\. 15th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon - Aeryn retrieves something Thancred left for her in the First. ShB 5.4

25\. Celebration - Revels and discussion after Amaurot. ShB 50 Ending.

* * *

Other fics featuring this pairing include a few chapters of the FFXIV Writes [2018](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817203/chapters/62463235), [2019](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20499422/chapters/62462092), and [2020](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711089/chapters/65158159); and [_Striking Fate_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24132940/chapters/59979595) (all 30 day prompt challenge collections), and [_Return to Dreams of Ice_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225008), a patch 5.2 fic about Eden, Ryne, Ysayle, and Shiva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posted with the encouragement and suggestions of some of my friends from Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club. If you enjoy reading and/or writing FFXIV fanfiction, and like a diverse, positive place to get fic recs, fic subscription alerts, and encouragement for your own writing and roleplay, check them out here: <https://discord.gg/BNKgvWH>
> 
> Note the Rat Grandpa WILL steal your coupons.


	2. The Way He Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ARR: Invited to the Waking Sands for the first time, Aeryn has a day or two to consider joining the Scions, and get to know her potential colleagues a little better...

Aeryn watched Thancred saunter out of the library before turning her attention back to her half-forgotten book. She tried to find where she had left off in the borrowed tome, but found herself replaying the discussion with the bard in her mind. _Wait_ …  
  
“Soooo,” Yda flopped into the newly vacated chair next to Aeryn, startling her. Where in the seven hells had the girl come from? “I see you spent some time with Thancred. I hope that doesn’t make you reconsider Minfilia’s offer.” She grinned, a hint of bright blue eyes peeking through her ever-present visor.  
  
“I think...he was flirting with me?”  
  
Yda guffawed, then quickly quieted herself, though Aeryn was sure they were now alone. “Well, you’re a woman, and it’s Thancred, sooo…probably, yes. He does that. Not with me, though. _He_ says it’s because he’s known me too long, and because I’d punch him. Which, while the first part may be true, I wouldn’t punch him, but he can keep believing that if he likes.”  
  
Aeryn blinked at Yda’s rambling, and then nodded.  
  
“You really didn’t notice? He’s not _that_ subtle.”  
  
“I…tend not to notice such things. Not ‘til I think about it later.”  
  
Yda headtilted and seemed to study Aeryn, the pugilist’s rough knuckles tapping her smooth jaw. “Do you like girls more, then?”  
  
Aeryn peered at her quizzically.  
  
“Y’know. Instead of men.”  
  
“Oh. No, I just…” Aeryn considered how to explain, and wondered if this sweet young woman would think her strange, as others had. Aeryn hoped not, after the rapport they had built up in the Twelveswood. May as well find out sooner than later, at least, especially if she was going to stay and work with these people. “I don’t really…’like’ anyone. Or at least, don’t... _notice_ anyone. Not that way.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Aeryn frowned. She was not sure what that meant.  
  
“Just the physical intimacy, or do you not care about the mushy romance, either? I think both or either could be nice, but it really depends what one’s looking for, doesn’t it?”  
  
Aeryn took a moment to catch up to Yda’s question. “I…guess I like the _idea_ of romance, and physical intimacy, I just…have never needed it?”

Well, there had been a couple of _attempts_ , when she was younger and trying to figure such things out. They had ended poorly, but no need to go into all that. Not here and now.  
  
“Mm,” Yda replied. “And I suppose most people want, or at least expect, both parts. In Thancred’s case, he likes the _idea_ of romance, too, but he also rather enjoys the other. So! You can safely ignore his flirting. It’s mostly just how he talks, anyway, he doesn’t really mean anything by it. And he _is_ nice, when he’s not being an arse. I really have known him forever; he’s like an annoying older brother, I guess.”  
  
Aeryn studied Yda for a long moment, trying to keep up with the other woman’s ever-spinning thoughts while also trying to get a read on her. It was damned hard with that mask.  
  
“What?” Yda asked when she noted Aeryn staring.  
  
“I just,” she frowned, and tried again. “You don’t think I’m…strange?”  
  
“Whhhyyy would I think that?”  
  
“Other people have, before. Because--I mean, it’s all right, but--I don’t think, or really care, about sex.”  
  
Yda’s nose wrinkled. “Those other people are _stupid_.”  
  
Aeryn could not help but laugh over Yda’s declaration, with more than a little relief.  
  
Yda shrugged. “I’ve seen you help people just because they needed help, not because of the rewards. I saw how you helped protect Gridania, and I know you can fight. Oh, and of course, you’ve Hydaelyn’s Blessing. Dunno why what you do—or, don’t, I guess—in bed matters.”  
  
“Thank you, Yda.”  
  
“You’re welcome! Really, don’t worry about it. Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one.”  
  
Aeryn blinked at her again.  
  
“Y’shtola could have _loads_ of suitors—and plenty try!—But she ignores _all_ of them. All work, work, work. She is _so_ boring, _honestl_ y.”  
  
“Um,” Aeryn looked past Yda.  
  
Yda grinned. She might have winked, but the mask made that nearly impossible to tell.  
  
“ _What_ are you saying about me over here, Yda?”  
  
“Nothing!” she sang, leaping out of the chair and dancing just out of reach of the frustrated conjurer. Yda laughed, and with a wave to Aeryn, dashed toward the door.  
  
“Ugh, such childishness,” Y’shtola shook her head. “I know not what you two were discussing, but her method of ending the conversation was unnecessary—and not pertinent.”  
  
Aeryn nodded. Though the Seeker was obviously annoyed, Aeryn could hear the underlying fondness for the younger woman and her antics. There was a comfortable, long-time familiarity among the archons.

It didn’t help the conjurer that her flicking tail gave her away.  
  
“Beg pardon,” Y’shtola said. “I have work to do, _without_ Yda’s assistance.”  
  
Aeryn set aside the book; it was a lost cause at this point. “I can help.”  
  
Y’shtola raised a brow. “Oh? It will be cataloguing data; not the most exciting, which is why our masked friend fled.”  
  
Aeryn simply nodded again as she stood to follow.  
  
Y’shtola smiled up at her; Aeryn was on the tall side for a midlander woman, putting her quite a few ilms over the miqo’te. “Very well,” Y’shtola said. “You will have the chance to see some of the more tedious aspects of our duties, and it shall keep us occupied until dinner, at least.”  
  
That was at least five bells away, if Aeryn had the timetable right. Still, her offer was genuine, and she had never balked at research. If Yda was correct, then there would be no further awkward conversations with Y’shtola, at least.  
  
Aeryn could not help a glance at the door as she crossed the library after Y’shtola, however. _‘It’s mostly just how he talks, anyway.’_ She resolved to remember that, lest she be taken off guard by the charming bard again.

* * *

  
“Well?” Thancred demanded as soon as Yda stepped out of the Waking Sands.  
  
“Gah! Don’t _do_ that,” Yda said, turning to face him. He was leaning on the wall right outside the door, where there was just enough shade to avoid the merciless sun glaring down on Vesper Bay.  
  
“But it’s fun making you jump,” he replied with a smirk. “So, did you—“  
  
“Yes! I talked to her!” She threw up her hands. Gods, _why_ had she agreed to this again? “It’s not that she isn’t interested in you.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“She isn’t interested in _anyone_. Not like that.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Yda shrugged. “Better luck next time.”  
  
“I suppose. Probably for the best, really, if she does join us.” He sounded like he was convincing himself. Yda really should have stayed out of this; he was going to be moody for _days_ now.  
  
“Probably. Especially if those reports about kidnappings and stolen crystal shipments in Thanalan are what you think,” she pointed out. “Minfilia’s bound to send Aeryn along, just in case. At least, that’s what Papalymo thinks.”  
  
“And what do _you_ think, dear Yda?”  
  
She thought about that a moment. “I think he’s right. We’ve all seen Aeryn fight; she’s _really_ good. And she has the Echo, so if it _is_ Ifrit, well, I guess you’ll be a little safer.”  
  
“I’m flattered by your concern, but I shall be fine—and hopefully we can put a stop to all this before anything terrible and fiery happens.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Hey, Thancred?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Are you just leaning on that wall to look suave, or because you forgot to eat again today?”  
  
He frowned. “I am fine, Yda.” He turned his face away, suddenly studying the docks. “And I did not forget, I was simply busy.”  
  
But not too busy to try and flirt with Aeryn. Typical.  
  
“Well, see, I was just about to go to the Pissed Peiste for their lunch special and could reeaallyy use the company.” She clasped her hands behind her back, leaned forward on her toes, and gave him her brightest smile.  
  
He sighed. “Well, when you put it that way,” he said, pushing himself off the wall. He did give her a small smile in return, though. She decided to take it as a victory. Telling him he was working too hard only made him surly, but turning it into an offer using her best little sister voice? That worked. For now.

It would at least distract him from his latest interest being _un_ interested, which was a definite plus in Yda’s book. And besides--Aeryn was too nice to get mixed up in Thancred’s affairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on December 10, 2018)


	3. Sandstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early ARR: On Aeryn's first mission for the Scions, she and Thancred have to make camp and talk. With no one else around, there's no need for facades from certain rogues--as if the Echo would allow that anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _((Uses my headcanon about Aeryn's initial adventures covering all three city-states intro stories, if in truncated form for two of them. A little about the Sage Marks granting some slower visible aging, but also that's just Thancred's baby face before MSQ repeatedly kicks him in the teeth.))_

The wind was kicking up, sand and grit blowing as they rode across the dusty old roads toward Drybone. Thancred looked up at the sky and frowned as the rented chocobos kwehed and shook worriedly. Aeryn looked to him, a questioning expression on her face.

“We’ve a sandstorm coming in,” he confirmed, familiar with the signs. “If we push, we can make it to safety before the worst strikes. Come on!” He urged his bird into a gallop, Aeryn’s mount keeping up easily.

He muttered a prayer or three as the chocobos’ talons ate the yalms of roadway, his eyes seeking the cut in the hillside walls that led off to a side road. He finally found it, and kicked his flagging chocobo forward again as the wind surged, the rumble of the coming storm at their backs.

He let out a coughing breath of relief when he saw it. The small house was tucked against a cliffside, well away from the main roads. Thancred had discovered the abandoned building during his surveys over the years, and often used it for camp as he passed through this region. Now it would shelter the two Scions and their birds from nature’s fury.

He leapt off his chocobo into a running landing for the door. He took more time than he liked--less than a minute, but still too many seconds--to find the hidden key and force the swollen old door open. Aeryn had dismounted in the meantime, and led the chocobos inside while Thancred secured the door again.

“That should do--Godsdammit!” Thancred looked at the broken window. He scrambled to the top of an old table, praying again that it held his weight, and leaned out to grab at the shutter. He had to wrench it, and his shoulder a bit, to get the old hinges to finally pull shut. He jammed the latch; no need to leave it open in any case.

Aeryn dug feed from the saddlebags, letting the winded chocobos soothe their nerves with dinner.

“Well, we are not going anywhere for some time,” Thancred said as the wind howled outside the old building. The beams overhead shuddered, but the walls were intact and the door remained latched. There seemed to be no other residents, either; his minor wards must have held.

Aeryn shook sand out of her coat with a grimace.

“Welcome to Thanalan,” Thancred said, dusting sand out of his fair hair. “I stocked some fuel by the fireplace when last I came this way; we shan’t freeze, at least. There’s a well, too, in the sideroom for drinking and bathing and all else.” He removed his chocobo’s tack, patting the tired bird as he retrieved his pack.

Aeryn did the same before joining Thancred at the fireplace on the other side of the small space. The ceiling was low and there were no other rooms; it had either been a single prospector’s house or was always meant to be a traveler’s waystation, forgotten as trade routes altered over time.

She set out bedrolls and rations while he crouched next to the old hearth, pulling a false brick from the wall with a small grunt of annoyance as his knuckles were scraped. In the hollow behind the brick was a battered camp kit and a meager amount of dry rations. “The tea shouldn’t be too gritty,” he said, using a cantrip to start a fire. Aeryn nodded in response, taking their canteens and the old kettle to fill with water while Thancred checked his stored rations alongside what they had packed for the journey.

Aeryn only had the aetheryte to Black Brush Station attuned, so they had had to travel the long way. Thancred had meant to camp at a more populated waystation on the main roads, another bell or two from now. He was glad after fifteen years working in Thanalan he had such eventualities dotted around the region; it paid to be prepared when the weather turned like this.

They settled in, amicably making camp, listening to the wind outside howl with the static of sand scouring the outside of the building. The chocobos were uninjured despite the final push to beat the storm, and fell asleep quickly after deep drinks of water and a treat of gysahl greens. The birds curled up together for warmth as the weather and night brought dropping temperatures.

“We should get to know one another better,” Thancred said as their supper warmed and the tea finished steeping. Aeryn looked up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. He shrugged. “We have the time, and we are colleagues now, are we not?”

She nodded again, a bit wary.

“All right, it may be a ploy to hear more of your lovely voice,” he teased, giving her one of his charming smiles. “Still; I shall start, if you prefer.”

Aeryn blushed, but did smile in return, at least.

Thancred remained crouched by the fire. “Now then; I bet you cannot accurately guess my age. ‘Tis an interesting effect of the--”

“Thirty-one.”

He blinked. “How did you--” He narrowed his eyes. “Yda.”

Aeryn giggled and nodded. “She explained a few things about the archons.”

Thancred sighed dramatically. “I can only guess what she said of me.” He gave Aeryn a pouty look.

She shook her head. “She said you’re a charming pain in the arse, and too clever for your own good. She didn’t speak poorly of any of the order.”

“Well that is something at least,” he replied. “She spoke rather well of you, too, if you were curious.”

Aeryn considered that a moment. “Hope I don’t disappoint.”

Privately, he agreed. Out loud, he answered, “From what Yda and Papalymo said, you arrived in Gridania only a short time ago. Where is it you hail from, if I may ask?”

“Originally, Coerthas,” she answered. “But Mother took us to her homeland in the Near East when I was small.”

“And you decided now that you are grown to return to the realm?” He asked, handing her a tin cup of tea.

She nodded in response as she accepted. “My brother returned a few years ago. I...came to find him.”

“Seems you have found plenty of adventure along the way,” Thancred said. Heroics in Gridania, and yet more with Y’shtola in Limsa, and what he had seen of Aeryn in Ul’dah; like she was always in the right place at the right time, and it all happened to coincide with the Ascians’ schemes ramping up again. A strange feeling, almost like a forgotten memory, tickled the back of his mind for a moment, but he dismissed it. “I know Ishgard’s gates are closed, but have you been back to Coerthas at all yet? Have you other family there?”

She shook her head. “No chance, while establishing myself with the Adventurer’s Guild, and then all that came after. I’ve heard Coerthas has changed since the Calamity, though I barely recall much of it.” Aeryn thought a moment, a small line creasing the space between her grey eyes. “I don’t believe I have any remaining family there.”

Thancred nodded. Before he could ask another question, she looked up, head tilting as she regarded him. “And you? Any family back in Sharlayan?”

“Ah, no, actually. I’m not originally from the City of Learning myself.” He idly rubbed the marks on his neck. “I am an orphan and immigrant; Sharlayan adopted me.”

“Like Yda.”

He raised a brow. “I’m surprised she said so much. She was...young,” he said, playing it safe. He wondered how much Yda had admitted to this young woman; it was easy to forget they were of an age, given…circumstances.

Aeryn only nodded and lapsed back into silence, watching the fire as she sipped her tea. It did not feel uncomfortable, and Thancred stayed quiet himself as he finished warming dinner. He passed Aeryn one of the cooked plates of rations.

“A simple meal, but it shall suffice for tonight,” he said. “Assuming the storm ends by morning, we can dig ourselves out and make it to Camp Drybone by midday. There will be better fare there.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking her share.

“You said your mother’s people are from the Near East. Hannish?”

Aeryn finished chewing the bite of jerky she had been contending with. “No; from an island off the mainland, actually. Traders; we spent half the year, after crossing over the strait, wandering usual routes, before spending the colder, wetter months in our village.”

“Grew up in a merchant caravan, then?”

Aeryn shrugged. “Partly, yes. Mother’s talents, when younger, were more of a minstrel’s.” She considered a moment, then smirked, eyes flicking a glance his way.

“What?”

“She’d have liked you, I think,” Aeryn said. “Probably would have seen through the charms, though.” There was a lilt to her tone; she was teasing him.

“Hrmph,” he couldn’t quite hold the smile back. “And warn me away from her pretty daughter, like as not,” he teased in return, pleased to see her blush once more. He noted again that it was not difficult to make that red appear on her tanned cheeks. “From my understanding, you’ve inherited some of your mother’s talents.”

Aeryn nodded again. “I can sing, and play the lyre and flute well enough.” She hesitated a moment. “I partially went to Gridania first because I’d heard rumors they had real bards in the Shroud. Luciane introduced me to one, but he wants me to practice awhile before teaching me more.”

“I’m sure you’ve the talent for it. We should sing together sometime,” Thancred said. She looked at him, blinking. “Good practice, yes? And the others would likely enjoy it.”

“I...Perhaps,” she replied, smiling. “What about you?”

“What about me, my lady?”

“You said you’re not from Sharlayan originally. What of your people?”

“Oh not much to tell there, I’m afraid,” he replied blithely, turning to the tea kettle. He caught a motion from the corner of his eye, and reflexively batted away the tightly wadded napkin she had flicked his way. “Hey!” He couldn’t help but grin; he recognized a test of reflexes when he saw one.

“You don’t get to deflect that easily,” she replied, grinning back. “Not after getting me to say so much.”

He eyed her a moment, then shook his head. “‘Twould only be fair, you’re right--but there honestly isn’t much to tell. No family to speak of, nor much of consequence occurred, before I met Master Louisoix and he brought me to Sharlayan--the colony in Eorzea, at least. I struggled to catch up with my education, learned to speak like a gentleman, and earned my Sage Marks at a younger age than most.”

She peered at him intently. He wondered if the Echo were showing her any of his memories. “Why do I feel as if some of that were out of spite?” Aeryn asked.

Thancred laughed, noting he had not quite kept a hint of old bitterness from his tone, and she had caught it. “Mayhap there was a bit; not all of the scholars were kind to a young guttersnipe. The ones who mattered though--well, you have met most of them.”

“You all seem close.”

“We’ve been colleagues for many years now.”

“Minfilia isn’t Sharlayan.”

“No,” Thancred said. “Like Yda, she’s originally Ala Mhigan, though she’s lived in Thanalan since she was a child.”

Aeryn gasped, her half-full tea cup dropping to the stone floor. She held her head, as if wracked by a sudden headache. “Are you all right?” There was no response, though she looked right at him. It seemed as if her eyes had taken on a silvery sheen. “Aeryn?”

She blinked, the odd reflection of light in her eyes gone. “I...saw….”

So the Echo did show her something. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, smiling when he opened them. “A moment from my past?” Thancred asked quietly, resigned to explaining whatever the Crystal had deemed necessary to show her.

She nodded, reaching for the fallen tin tea cup and a spare blanket to blot at the spill. “Moments, really. It went quickly.” She closed her eyes. “A parade; a goobue; a miqo’te woman; a card game; a knife in a crypt…” Her eyes opened and she looked at him again. “Minfilia had a different name, as a child.”

He looked at the fire. “I could not save her father that day.” Thancred did not try to hide the old pain and shame; she already knew of it. “He had many enemies; I gave Minfilia her new name to keep her safe from them. F'lhaminn--the Songstress of Ul’dah herself--was part of the conspiracy of wealthy youths that led to all the events you saw. I ensured she took Minfilia in, though I also watched over her for years. Minfilia told me of her Echo when still an adolescent, and so I introduced her to Master Louisoix, via letters at first. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Aeryn nodded. “Papalymo gave me a brief history of the Circle of Knowing, the Path of the Twelve, and how they formed the Scions after the Calamity,” she said. There was still a thread of shakiness in her voice, but color was coming back to her cheeks, and her hands weren’t trembling as much.

“Does it take much out of you? The Echo?” He asked.

She looked at her own unsteady fingers. “Not as much as it did the first few times. Perhaps I’m getting used to it.”

He remembered her fainting at the Sultantree, and again outside the Sil’dihn ruins. The others had reported similar instances. “I hope so; you seemed ready to pass out.”

She grimaced and shrugged, and he feared she would lapse back into her customary silence. “You said you were looking for your brother, here in Eorzea?” He prodded gently.

Aeryn took a moment, then nodded. “He left home about six years ago, to see the realm of our birth and become an adventurer. I wanted to come with him, but Mother begged me to stay. She was ill even then, but had yet to tell us. And my own studies were not yet complete--though once she did take a turn for the worse, I had to give them up entirely.”

“What were you studying?” Something tickled the back of his mind again, but he shelved it for now to focus on her. Her breathing was steady again, and she wasn’t as pale; good.

“Magic. Magic theory, really, I...couldn’t do magic. Not as they taught in Thavnair, at least. I had wanted to learn so I could help my brother on his adventures. Instead I took up martial skills.” She frowned at the fire again, opting for water instead of more tea. “In Gridania, E-Sumi-Yan told me it’s strange I couldn’t learn; he says I have deep aetheric reserves, and it...suddenly seems to come easily enough, now.”

“Eorzea’s an aether-rich land,” Thancred pointed out. “Perhaps you’ll find a magic that agrees with you here. You certainly don’t lack the mind nor the talent, from what I have observed.” If anything, Aeryn's penchant for studying thicker tomes fit right in with many of his fellow archons.

She smiled, the pink tinge returning to her cheeks again as she ducked her head. “Thank you,” she said simply after some hesitation.

He smiled. “Quite welcome. Now, we should get our rest. Morning will come and plenty of work with it. Here, move your roll closer; we’ll have to huddle with the chocobos regardless for warmth, and I swear I shall be a gentleman.” He winked.

She nodded with a slight smile and an eyeroll, recognizing his joke. She shifted her bedding away from the spilled tea staining the floor. They ended up alongside one another, leaning on their chocobos, the chill seeping in even with the thick walls and the fire, the rushing of sandy wind now a constant background noise. The birds’ sleepy chirrs were closer and more comforting, the feathery bodies radiating a pleasant heat against the hyurs’ backs.

“Thancred?”

“Yes?”

“How exactly is my Echo supposed to help, if it still nearly causes me to faint when the visions come?”

He thought about his answer for a moment. “Well, you are getting better at not falling over when it hits you. Perhaps it will aid our investigation into the kidnappings.” He did not want to think about the alternative, the possibility that she might have to do more.

Aeryn’s quiet seemed thoughtful, as if she knew he was holding back. “Goodnight, Thancred,” she finally said.

“Good night,” he replied, staring at the flickering fire, shadows and light playing across the room.

What could one girl, talented as she was, do against something like Ifrit?

He hoped to all the gods they didn’t have to find out.


	4. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Realm Reborn 2.0 Ending: The morning after saving the realm from Ultima Weapon and the celebrations that followed.  
> Something of a sequel to "[Clamor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711089/chapters/65268487)" in _Dreams of Home FFXIV Write 2020_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Originally posted to Tumblr as a prompt response on 2 Febuary 2021 for Febhyurary. Revised._  
>  \---

Thancred hadn’t slept much.

Outside the tent, the massive camp of adventurers and Grand Company soldiers stirred as the sky turned pink through a partially open flap; Minfilia had neglected to properly close it. Not that Thancred minded, as it had allowed him to watch the stars once Cid’s fireworks display had finished.

That was when Minfilia had come to check on him and had found Aeryn sleeping on the spare blankets and bags. The Antecedent had only nodded in understanding when he had explained they had escaped the press and noise of the celebratory crowd earlier and the exhausted champion had dozed off during their conversation.

Minfilia had bade him get his rest as well, and he had promised her he would try, but all his attempts were fitful and plagued with nightmares; dark, half-formed flashing images and sensations of fire, blood, screams in halls of stone, of metal, of earthen walls. Memories of a cold, haughty laugh. Nothing solid, but his pulse was racing and every instinct screamed to fight or run or hide and he _couldn’t_ \--

“Are you awake?” A sleepy voice murmured. Thancred almost jumped, then again remembered Aeryn. She was rubbing her eyes as she struggled to sit up in her impromptu bed. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

“So did I,” he lied politely. “But now it’s just about morning and I could use a cup of Momodi’s strongest coffee.”

“Does sound nice. Bet the Flames have some,” she stretched, then peered at him. She already looked well awake. “Need to stretch your legs?”

“Sound idea, actually.” Getting out of the shadows of the tent and the clinging nightmares seemed suddenly necessary.

She helped him up and let him lean as they left, wending their way through the encampment until they came to the open hillside looking over Silvertear Lake. By them, Thancred felt steady enough on his own two feet to not need her arm anymore, though it had felt nice while it lasted.

“Usually if I’m seeing sunrise, it’s because I stayed up too late,” Thancred joked. The water reflected the sky’s pink and gold hues, the day still uncommonly clear for Mor Dhona.

“I tend to rise early, regardless of how late I retire,” Aeryn said. “I don’t really mind.” She looked up at him. “Feeling any better?”

He let out a deep breath. “Yes and no. I feel as if I haven’t slept or eaten in too long, in addition to being beaten within an inch of my life--which I don’t blame you for, by the way. If anything, I’m grateful you drove the bastard out.”

She still winced. “I wish it hadn’t come to that, but...I’m glad you’re back.”

He nodded and began to answer, but a beam of light struck his eyes. “Ah, and here we are; the first official dawn of the Seventh Astral Era.”

“And the Scions’ goal achieved,” Aeryn replied, looking to where the sun was pulling over the eastern hills and reflecting off the spire of crystal on the horizon.

“The first one, perhaps,” Thancred said, quietly wishing Louisoix was with them. “But dawn’s just the start of the day, isn’t it? Seems to me there’s still plenty of work to do.”

“Then let’s find some of that Quicksand coffee and get to it,” Aeryn said with a small smile for him.

He grinned back, the nightmares of the last few moons dissipating--for now--in the morning light.


	5. Humidity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ARR Patches: It's too bad the game no longer depicts the construction of Revenant's Toll from tiny camp to walled town through the 2.x patches. Still, the Scions get a little time to celebrate along the way.

“This much heat without the sun should be impossible,” Yda complained as she and Aeryn dodged through the crowds in Revenant’s Toll’s new square, despite the strange aetheric gloom of Mor Dhona.

Aeryn shrugged. “More the humidity; like half the lake is hanging over the town.” The sticky heat had Aeryn dressed lighter than usual in a backless summer dress with a knee-length skirt and simple sandals as they joined the celebration of the Splendor’s construction, hosted by Rowena herself. Yda had forgone her usual sabatons and wore a sleeveless cropped top, but kept her mask. Aeryn had already pointed out she’d be cooler without it, to no avail.

“It never felt like this in Vesper Bay,” Yda said, stopping in her tracks as the crowd opened up.

A small group of musicians were playing—a fiddle, a flute, a lyre, a small drum hanging from a shoulder strap. Aeryn realized they were adventurers that had been around town recently, doing various odd jobs for the growing settlement. Apparently they were also an impromptu band.

“Aeryn, Yda!” Thancred called, grinning as he joined them. “Just the ladies I wished to see.”

“Oh, what now?” Yda asked, eyeing the rogue.

He gave her a pout. “There’s music to go along with the celebrations, what do you think, dearest Yda?” His voice dropped. “Seriously, I need one of you to rescue me from my admirers, if you’d be so kind.”

“Bit off more than you can chew?” Aeryn asked, crossing her arms and trying not to laugh.

He shrugged. “Two of them have gotten into an argument and the third—well, I know if I tried to dance with her my feet would hate me in the morning.” He gave Aeryn one of his most charming smiles. “But none would begrudge me a dance with our Warrior of Light—nor try to cut in, either.”

Aeryn looked at the hand he held out while affecting a gallant bow. She sighed and took it despite herself--and a warning look from Yda--letting him pull her into the open space where three other couples were already moving at various levels of competence and enthusiasm.

Aeryn didn’t want to admit how much she had wanted to join the dancing anyway, though Thancred already knew she enjoyed it. “Maybe you ought to try not flirting with multiple marks at once.”

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” He replied, leading her into a spin before joining what looked something like a disjointed quadrille, passing to other partners briefly before coming back together as the tempo changed.

“Honesty is its own reward,” she said as their hands met once more. “Your lack of shall get you into trouble someday.”

“I’m entirely honest, I’ll have you know,” he replied as he pulled her close for a pivot as the dance changed to something more of a cross waltz.

“Just not forthcoming,” she answered, resting her other hand on his shoulder as they skipped around the space in time with the other dancers.

Aeryn had not expected this close of a dance, but continued to follow his lead, through a series of pivot turns and windmill spins and hesitation steps she was certain he was pulling from some other style she was unfamiliar with.

After a few moments, she chanced a glance at the open space. “Where are the oth--”

“Eyes on me,” he said, quick and low. Thancred grinned as she locked her grey eyes onto his brown. “Naught to worry about, just the dance,” he assured her in a soft tone.

She kept focus on his eyes, to distract herself from suddenly being very aware that the other couples had stopped dancing and many, many others were watching the two Scions as they sidestepped across the square and back again with a series of underarm turns. She spun away, their fingers barely touching, before reeling back in for a slight dip as the music ended and the gathered crowd clapped and cheered. The calloused pads of his fingertips trailed across her bared back, catching on her left shoulderblade and following the line of it up briefly as the dance ended. It sent a shiver through Aeryn, centered on her spine, aware of the trail his fingers had made in the thin sheen of sweat on her skin.

“There we are. Take a bow,” Thancred said, his usual wicked smile softened somehow as they turned, hands raised together as he bowed and she followed half a second later with a curtsy. “We shall have to do that again sometime,” he continued. “For now, I need a drink. You and Yda care to join me?”

Aeryn nodded, aware her face was burning from the town’s attention and feeling more tongue-tied than usual. “I’ll find her and we’ll meet you,” she managed to blurt out, turning on a heel to find her friend.

Yda wasn’t far away, a small frown on her face. “What was that?”

Aeryn blinked. Then shrugged. “Dancing? We’ve done it before.”

“Sure, for the Scions,” Yda said. “And watching Hoary cut in is always funny, but that was…”

“Thancred showing off,” Aeryn said, clearing her throat and waving a hand dismissively. “And now we’re thirsty and I bet you are too. He’s getting drinks for all of us.”

“Uh-huh,” Yda said. She did not press, however, for which Aeryn was grateful. She really wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so off-balance.

Nor why she could now feel the absence of his hand on her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on October 19, 2019)


	6. Aetherytes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavensward 3.1: After returning to civilization and the immediate drama of the True Brothers' unrest in Ishgard, Thancred continues to try to hide his new condition from his comrades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Originally posted to Tumblr for Febhyurary 2021. No major edits from that same-day post._  
>  \--

Thancred glowered up at the aetheryte. The morning light was obscured by a light snowfall, the blue glow of the device tinting the plaza. The knight handling the fees had a vague eye on him, but Aeryn was keeping the man mostly distracted with pleasant conversation and a thermos of Fortemps cocoa.

Thancred took a breath and carefully reached his hand toward the crystal, willing his aether to align with the beacon it provided. He sought the familiar static sensation, the satisfying _snap_ of attunement.

Nothing.

He ground his teeth and told himself the sting in his eye was from the cold wind whipping up from the canyons surrounding the city. He took another deep breath before turning back to Aeryn and the knight, smiling broadly. “There we are. Now I do believe you said there was more you wished to show me?” He called to his colleague and prayed she hadn’t been paying close attention.

Aeryn curtseyed to the knight who returned a low bow. She passed Thancred the thermos. “Looks like you could use this,” she said, leading the way from the aetheryte plaza toward the Arc of the Humble.

“I could, actually,” Thancred replied. “It’s too early to be awake.”

“This was your idea,” she reminded him.

He shrugged and took a swig, the cocoa creamy and still pleasantly warm. He almost wished for liquor after his failed attempt at attunement–the reason he had wished to try so early, when most Ishgardians were still abed or at early morning Mass.

Fewer witnesses to his latest embarrassment.

“Are you all right?” Aeryn asked quietly.

“I’m cold,” he answered. “And thinking this was a terrible idea. Remind me not to start my days here again until after the first Mass is out, that’s at least approaching a reasonable hour.”

He tried to keep his tone light, but could feel her gaze on him. She had been staying on his left as they walked, keeping anyone else from suddenly coming up from that side, but when they stopped she would move into the line of his good eye. The one not suffering from aetheric overlay, causing double vision and headaches. He wasn’t certain how to approach fixing that issue, either.

It made the lack of aetheric response all the more galling, being able to see the hazy impressions flowing through the world. Not so well as a pair of their goggles for taking readings, but it was there. Within sight yet out of reach.

Even for something so simple as teleportation. Even a child could attune to the aethernet for gods’ sake. He had hoped, foolishly, now that he was back with the others perhaps something had changed, that it had been something about the Dravanian wilderness preventing his magics but–

“Thancred?” Aeryn was repeating his name; he rarely got so lost in his own head as to miss entire conversations. It just wasn’t safe to not pay attention–nor polite when in such fine company.

“Sorry, I must be more tired than I thought. It’s been an interesting few days, and we were thrown into the thick of things on arrival.”

She led him across yet another square named for yet another saint toward a steaming, clanking building. “I was saying, this is the Skysteel Manufactory, run by the Haillenartes,” she said as they paused by an aethernet shard. “The eldest son, really; he has a new kind of firearm he’s been handing out to the commoners.”

“Ah, so Hilda and her friends?” Thancred had wondered where her weapon had come from.

Aeryn nodded. “They make all sorts of other devices and tools, too; Cid and his team worked with them for a time as well.” She glanced his way. “Seems like something you’d be interested in.”

His shoulders tensed. “What makes you say that?” It sounded snappier than he meant it to; he hadn’t told any of the other Scions about his current problem–he knew and dreaded that he would have to eventually, if it didn’t somehow clear up–but if anyone was going to figure it out besides Y’shtola, it would be Aeryn…

But she simply shrugged. “You like to be prepared for eventualities,” Aeryn replied mildly. “Just seemed the kind of thing I thought you’d like.”

They watched one another for a long moment as he tried to read her expression and tone. Her grey eyes were the same flat slate of the city’s stones, tension lines obvious at their corners and at her mouth. Her tone was just a touch too even.

She knew _something_ , but she wasn’t sure what she knew yet exactly. So she offered options hoping one of them might help.

Thancred smiled. “You’re right of course. Good of you to think of it as I’m not sure I’d know what to make of the place on my own.” He looked past her shoulder. “Is that a fireplace?”

She blinked at the sudden shift, then turned. “Oh, yes; one of many around the city.”

“Let’s take advantage of it, shall we?” He began to head that way, hoping she wouldn’t—

“You should attune to the shard,” she commented, he thought a bit pointedly.

“In a moment,” he lied. “Let’s warm up first; I know you must also be feeling this ungodly cold.”

“It’s not as bad as when the sky’s clear,” she mused, following him to the glowing hearth.

A minor noblewoman served a simple breakfast of warm buns and thin coffee to the chocobo handlers of the nearby stable. She happily passed servings on to Aeryn and Thancred. While the coffee wasn’t Momodi’s strong, spicy blend, it would do until the pair of Scions returned to Fortemps manor.

Thancred chewed on the coarse loaf and considered confiding his predicament to Aeryn. If anyone could understand, it would be her. Perhaps by now she had figured out how her own aether had realigned to allow her the use of magic after her childhood difficulties, or maybe…

No, he thought, watching her say hello to a poor hedge knight and his son, acquaintances of hers somehow. This was something he would simply have to figure out, before it became an issue. Whether by relearning how to use even the simplest spells or by finding other ways to make up for his lack, he couldn’t let the Scions down.

They still had to find Minfilia. He would not sit on the sidelines while others searched.

“About ready to head back?” Aeryn asked. “I was thinking of swinging up through the Jeweled Crozier, show you the market in the Pillars.”

“Would be nice to properly see it,” he replied, finishing his coffee. “So long as _someone_ doesn’t get distracted by fancy dresses,” he teased.

Aeryn pouted. “No idea what you mean.” She broke into giggles, her cheeks red from more than the cold now. “I _do_ have a specific stall I wish to check, but just the one, I promise.”

Thancred grinned. “Ah, your nefarious scheme becomes clear; I’m to carry your excess purchases for you.”

“Well if you’re offering, after dragging me out into the cold.”

“You volunteered, my friend, since few others get up so early as you. But if this is the price I must pay for your company…”

“I swear, it’s only the one.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he replied, tapping his chin in thought. “That time in Sapphire Lane…”

“I’m not ever living that down am I?”

“Not a chance. Shall we?”

Aeryn made an exaggerated sigh before breaking into giggles again. She led him from the hearth as he continued to tease, with the added benefit of distracting her just enough to neglect the aethernet shard as they instead took one of the winding stairs directly to the landing above toward the market. So long as he could keep her distracted he could make it through the morning, giving him time as he readjusted to civilization and the new situation the Scions found themselves in. All while not worrying them with his condition until he had something figured out.

At the very least, despite his time alone in the wilderness, he could still make a friend laugh with his teasing; that was in itself a start.


	7. Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavensward Patches: As Ishgard prepares to host the Alliance Tournament, tensions among certain Scions are a bit high after the foray into the Antitower and the revelations therein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _((Skipping ahead quite a bit, as I look in distress at unpublished, unready WIPs. But this is what's next in already-published order, so I'll have to come back and fill in gaps later. And this is far from the biggest jump, I think.))_

“You’re avoiding me,” Aeryn said before Thancred could walk away.

“No,” he answered. “I have been busy. As have you. All of us, preparing for Ser Aymeric’s grand tournament.”

“Then let’s prepare,” she said. “Spar with me.”

“Perhaps later--”

She crossed her arms and glared. “Why? You’re lounging, so please don’t tell me you’re currently busy. I also checked with Tataru.”

Thancred closed his mouth to bite back the ready reply. “Why do you need to spar anyway? We all know you are going to win. ‘Tis what you do.”

She caught the bitterness he tried to hide. “Not always,” Aeryn answered. They did not look at each other for a long moment. “Anyroad, I shouldn’t get complacent,"she said finally. "And you’re the best sparring partner.”

“Am I?” he asked. There might have been a hint of acid in his tone.

“None better. Absolute taskmaster.”

He snorted and pushed off the wall he was leaning on. “Well fine, if you’re going to be flattering.”

The Scions left the Forgotten Knight and walked in tense silence through the city. They made their way through the gates and across the Steps of Faith, the wind whipping at their clothes and hair. Aeryn watched him.

“What?” He finally asked.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. “After so many years in Thanalan, and you tend to wear lighter gear--”

“No,” Thancred said after a moment. “It’s rather refreshing actually. And desert nights are chilly in their own way. Though I admit, I would not say no to an afternoon lounging in Vesper Bay’s square over crossing this bridge.”

“With overpriced orange juice from the Pissed Peiste?”

He did not reply, though for a moment it looked as if he might. He must have remembered he was angry and wished to forgo banter. Aeryn suppressed a sigh.

“The tournament will be happening around here,” Thancred said as they reached the open plain beyond the Steps. The road stretched east and up toward the low grey line of Camp Dragonhead's walls, clouds gathering over distant Xelphatol beyond the hills. Down to the west, she could barely make out the glint of Whitebrim’s towers.

“You will want to have a good idea of the ground,” he continued, crouching and peering across the open space. “Wouldn’t do to fall face first at some private’s feet because you tripped over a chinchilla’s burrow.”

“I think there’s a detail coming to grade the area later today,” she said, drawing her rapier. “But that will just make it easier.”

“Hrmph.” He stood again, stretching as he did, then swinging his arms. “No doubt. Still, do me a favor and forgo magic for now. I want to see how you have worked on your swordsmanship these past few moons.”

“You’re sure you’re not cold?”

“I am limbering up,” he said, tone as cool as the air.

Aeryn shrugged. If he wanted to be that way. She was about to start her own stretches when Thancred suddenly dashed at her, blades drawn, making her bring her own up to meet them and immediately putting her on the defensive, forcing her back a few steps.

“Do your enemies announce when they’re ready?” He snarled, testing her defenses. He mostly used his long Allagan blade, but she kept an eye on his smaller off-hand weapon; he had changed how he fought during his time in the wilderness.

Before, he had fought with a single sword, or matched short blades. His style had been flamboyant, even to the point of showing off, as a way to obfuscate his strikes and baffle his foes. As he pushed Aeryn across the clearing, she noted he still fought with flair and panache not found in most combatants--yet seemed more direct, less reliant on feints and misdirection than in the past. There was nothing wasteful in his movement, for all they flowed like a dance.

She could admit she was a bit envious.

And still on the back foot, godsdammit. She tried a parry Haurchefant had taught her, and gained back a few steps. A few quick strikes practiced with Lucia put Thancred on the defensive, and she caught him briefly grin.

“Mayhap your flirting across Coerthas has done you well after all,” he said, a sharp edge to the teasing.

“What?!” Aeryn demanded. How dare he, he knew her better than—

The Echo’s warning came a moment too late as he spun away from her riposte, running his blade along the length of hers until with a flick of his wrist her sword was caught and her arm twisted back as he stepped behind her, his offhand coming up to rest lightly against her throat.

“You’re easily distracted,” his voice rumbled low in her ear.

Aeryn turned her head to retort, but the words stuck when their eyes met and she was suddenly, intensely aware of being pressed against him, back to chest, their breathing heavy from the exercise and nearly in time with one another. They were close to the same height--he was barely two ilms taller--so their faces were close, his brown eye strangely hooded and his lips were right there as he leaned in and gods why was she even thinking that…

They were close enough she could taste his breath, their lips barely brushing. Her eyes closed of their own accord, in anticipation of further pressure.

“...No,” he breathed, and she was suddenly spun, like when they used to dance to entertain the other Scions in that time Before Ul’dah.

Aeryn and Thancred stood in the snow, staring at one another. “That’s enough for today,” he said brusquely. “If you stay focused, you should do well enough against the Grand Companies.”

“Thancred…”

He turned away. “I apologize; that was inappropriate.”

She stared at his back for a long moment. Before he could turn to look, she cleared her throat. “Nothing to apologize for,” Aeryn said shortly. “All’s fair, as they say.”

“...Quite,” he replied, though sounded strange. “I believe I am rather cold after all, and will retire to the Forgotten Knight for some of Gibrillont’s mulled wine.”

She waited for him to add more, to invite her along, to offer to discuss whatever the seven hells that had been, but he walked on toward the gate. To be fair, though, she couldn’t quite manage to make those offers herself.

Aeryn watched him go, then continued to practice. It was not as effective as with a partner, but better than nothing, and she wouldn’t be returning to the city with him and the continued air of awkwardness.

“Thou art restless,” Midgardsormr’s voice rumbled from her left. Aeryn paused, looking over to see the small dragonet form of the ancient wyrm sitting upon a nearby stone.

“There is much to prepare for tomorrow,” she answered, returning to her drills.

“Yet there is spare time for courtship rituals?”

Aeryn fumbled mid-maneuver, nearly dropping her rapier. She blinked at him. “What? No! That was...we were sparring. Practicing, for tomorrow’s tournament.”

The dragon tilted his head. “‘Tis not what it appeared, but mortals are strange.”

She only grunted a response and returned to her ready stance. Feint, riposte, zwerchhau...

“He is strong and skilled,” Midgardsormr continued in a musing tone. “As I recall, such qualities are sought after, as mortals require physical mating to pass on--

“ _Midgardsormr_ ,” Aeryn hissed after stumbling again, her face on fire.

He flapped his tiny wings, and she swore he was grinning. “I was but making an observation, child, and musing on the differences between thy kin and mine own. Draconic mating is a melding of mind and spirit, rather than the flesh.”

“I am aware,” Aeryn said tightly, trying to not snap at the Father of Dragons. This was not helping take her mind off that almost-kiss. She was certain the elder knew that.

There was a shift in the dragon’s stance, and his deep black eyes now watched her closely, the hint of mirth faded. “Thou hath enjoyed the man’s companionship in the past. ’Twould seem since his return, you have been at odds.”

Aeryn sheathed her blade; she was getting no further exercise today. “...Yes,” she finally answered him. “‘Twould seem that way. I...failed to save the person he entrusted to my care, and then I failed to bring her back.”

Midgardsormr shook his head. “She but followed thy Mother’s call, and made her own choice. There was naught for thee to do upon the matter. Thou shouldst not blame thyself--Nor bear blame from others.” The last came with a slight warning growl.

“I...I don’t know if he does or not,” she admitted. “We’ve worked together, and he was honestly concerned when I was poisoned...And…” _Her back pressed to his chest, his eye looking into hers, their lips not even an ilm apart._ “...I’m likely imagining things, that’s all.”

A simple distraction, as he had said. She mustn’t read into it.

“Hrmph,” Midgardsormr rumbled. “How thy people have propagated when capable of such self-delusion is one of life’s great mysteries.”

She glowered at him. “Which of us is the expert at mortals, actually being one? You’re mistaken. Thancred is known for his flirtations and distractions; that is all it was. Naught more.”

The dragon stretched, and made a motion akin to a shrug. “Thy protestations are noted,” he responded, before fading out in a puff of aether.

Aeryn rubbed her forehead. She could still sense his rumbling chuckle in the back of her mind. Once she was more or less composed--or at least no longer felt as if her face would set fire to the Gates of Judgment when she passed through them--she made her way back to the city.

* * *

What in the seven bloody hells had he been thinking?

Thancred ran a hand over his face as he nursed his mulled wine. The problem, of course, was that he had _not_ been thinking. Caught in the rhythm of their sparring match, he had reacted on instinct, and she was right there and…

Inappropriate, he reminded himself. For so very many reasons. He knew at one point he had had a list, the first time he had bucked this ridiculous notion of an interest in the woman who had become their Warrior of Light.

There was one; the champion of the realm could certainly do better than a grizzled, magicless rogue.

There was another; since his misadventure in the Lifestream and being left in Dravania’s wilderness without magic, he now looked and felt closer to his estimated age of thirty-two winters. Still young enough to do his job, but it seemed a decent gap against her twenty-six. She was even younger than--

_That_ thought made him slug down a too-large gulp of too-hot wine. It helped focus the pain and gave an excuse for the tears threatening to appear as he coughed, waving away the bartender.

Aeryn had looked him in the eye and nodded when he had told her “whatever it takes” and yet...

That was not fair, and not part of the list, though he couldn’t help the anger, the grief, the shame at lying to F'lhaminn.

He retired to the small room in Cloud Nine that Tataru had rented for him. Laying in bed staring at the ceiling, he found his mind wandering back to the sparring match. How Aeryn felt pressed against him, how she smelled, how her grey eyes had darkened and then closed as their lips nearly touched… _Godsdammit_.

He could always blame spending time alone in the wilderness for how easily distracted he was by a pretty woman, colleague or not.

That Aeryn had seemed willing did not help; it would have been easier if she had pushed him away, cursed at him, reminded him that she did not experience such base attractions. A voice whispered that did not negate a desire for intimacy, and there were those rumors of her and the knight. Thancred told that voice to shut up as he rolled over. But his imagination continued, conjuring images of furthering that kiss, of pressing closer, his fingers tangling in her fine black hair, the taste of her…

The aftertaste of mulled wine on his own tongue remembered the bite he had smelled in the fallen cup at Falcon’s Nest, her lying on the floor as chaos reigned outside, and the feeling of his heart in his throat at the idea of Aeryn poisoned.

Perhaps that was why he was in such a strange mood, he decided. Fear for his friend’s life, even as he was still grieving Minfilia. It was the simplest explanation for his mental turmoil.

Satisfied, he turned his mind to a mummer’s breathing exercise, a trick to fall asleep quickly, forcing his mind to still so he could rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on February 2, 2020)


	8. Afterimages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavensward Patches: Immediate follow up to the previous chapter, "Sparring", Thancred the next morning before the Tournament. NSFW for sexual content (cis male masturbation).

The flames roared and danced, the sky distorted from the primal’s dissipating aether. He ran to where she stood in the center, swaying slightly with the gusts of heated air.

“Aeryn!” he called, realizing this all seemed familiar. He expected her to be angry, betrayed; he had left her to face that alone, how could he have been so foolish…

She turned to him, blinking away whatever vision had distracted her, grey eyes like the muddled slush of a city street in winter. She gripped fire in her hands, held close to her chest--another crystal of light.

As he neared, Aeryn reached her free hand out to him, clutching his forearm as he instinctively reached back. He did not so much as pull her close as she fell against him, the crystal burning between them. “I’m sorry, I am so sorry,” he said, stroking her hair as they embraced. “I should never have left you alone.”

“We found you,” she replied. “And I failed you.” The heat between them seemed to intensify, burning away the damp chill of Matoya’s cave.

In aetheric vision he saw now that it was not only the fire crystal, but all six elemental crystals, joined as one within her, causing her to glow with shifting colors of light. Her eyes were like the moon as she looked up, rain falling from them. That wasn’t right; she shone too brightly for tears.

“Never,” he said, cupping her face, his rough thumb brushing away a wet track from her soft cheek. Her unpainted lips parted to say more, but he leaned in to capture that breath with a kiss.

The fire crackled in the old hearth while the sandstorm raged outside. They fell onto the bedrolls and blankets, naught between them but her unbearable light, wrapping around him as he plunged into that iridescence, hands tangling in her fine black hair and running along her supple form. Her voice was echoed by the wind as she cried out his name—

* * *

“Thancred!” The knock at the door jolted him awake.

“Y-yes?” He called, brain attempting to sort reality from the dream he had been living in the previous second.

“You asked me to wake you early, for breakfast before the tourney,” Tataru said through the door.

Of course. “Thank you, I’ll be down momentarily,” he called back. He briefly feared she would ask to come in, but she made an affirmative noise and walked away.

He could use a bath in ice water.

Instead he got up and crossed to the washstand behind a screen depicting scenes from some knightly tale. He had not looked closely enough yet to determine which one, if he knew. Perhaps he should; it might replace the imagery from the dream still in his mind. Aeryn’s skin against his as she writhed with him, the possibilities of what sounds she made in the throes of passion…

Thancred groaned and thumped his forehead against the wall, interrupting his morning ablutions. This was _not_ an appropriate way to think of a colleague. Not of _her_. Not with what he had said after her foray into the Antitower especially, though Aeryn didn’t seem to hold a grudge.

Perhaps this was a result from their sparring the day prior, practice for Ser Aymeric’s grand tournament. Thancred had been distracted by Aeryn; how she moved with grace, strength, and speed, keeping him hard-pressed to challenge her. He had trapped her as a last resort—and perhaps, in honesty, to hold her close; to feel her pressed to him, their breath heaving together, the scent of her exertion.

He should have kissed her.

“No,” he growled to himself out loud. He should _not_ have. He should not even have come close to doing so to begin with.

_Why not?_ A voice in his head asked. He tried to go back over his reasons, the ones he had reiterated to himself just the night before. They all rang like hollow excuses as the morning light filtered in through the windows.

He was acting the fool, he thought, even as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. He tried to think of someone else, _anyone_ else as he worked himself; partners he had actually been with, or spun entirely from his imagination—but his mind kept going back to _her_ , to the memories of those few times they had been so near and yet so far. To how she spoke, how she laughed, and how her voice harmonized so well with his own in song. To how she smelled faintly of vanilla or lavender right after a bath and a change of clothes when home from adventures, versus the wild scent of her arcane exertions in the field. To how strands of her black hair caught the wind, how her eyes shifted shades of silver and grey with her moods. To the memory of yesterday, feeling her pulse in time with his own, the taste of her breath, imagining if he had given into that kiss and lost himself in her radiance…

He couldn’t stop himself from moaning as his mind merged the half-remembered dream images with the idea of having had her then and there on the snowy fields, in sight of the gods and anyone else who might have ridden down the road. It felt obscene to stroke himself while imagining her naked, arching and moving with him, wondering at the noises she would make—and as often as he had heard her say his name, how might it sound tumbling from her lips when he was making her come…

His own release left him gasping, just barely stopping himself from forming the syllables of her name out loud. He leaned on the wall, catching his breath. It took but a moment for him to straighten, clearing his throat as he reached for a clean washcloth.

Well, that was better. Somewhat. He felt a twinge of guilt for fantasizing about a colleague—about the _Warrior of Light_ —to relieve himself, but perhaps now his fanciful imagination would put these ridiculous notions to rest and he could move on with the work that must be done.

A part of him knew that was unlikely, but he had always been good at pretending while ignoring that too-reasonable voice in his own head.

Thancred finished grooming and getting dressed, leaving the room to catch the early breakfast Tataru had prepared. There was a tournament to watch Aeryn win today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published to Tumblr on February 2, 2020)


	9. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavensward Patches: A brief interlude as things begin to calm--before, of course, falling apart again.

There were flowers in her room.

The chill and soreness she felt after her long day were temporarily put aside as she pondered the bouquet’s appearance on the small table by her overstuffed reading chair.

Flowers in her _locked_ room. That narrowed the possibilities significantly.

The blooms were nearly her favorite shade of blue, which also shortened the list of likely culprits.

She approached warily, half-expecting some trick, but only found a note tucked amid the stems.

> “Apologies”

The script was familiar, though the heavier press of ink at the start indicated the writer had taken time to consider, before ultimately keeping it to the point.

He _had_ been a bit of an arse lately, but that was to be expected after...everything.

_After my failure._

She shook her head. Enough of that. Maybe things would be better now. Not like before that Damned Banquet perhaps, but it was a start.

She took the bouquet to her alchemy station and began the process to preserve the blossoms at their full vibrancy of life and scent. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received such a present, so it seemed occasion enough.

The simple note was placed in the shallow top drawer of her desk where she kept smaller trinkets and memorabilia, to surprise herself with later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a screenshot prompt response to Tumblr on February 1, 2019)


	10. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early Stormblood 4.0: After the assault on Rhalgr's Reach and many of their companions go to the Far East, Thancred confides in Y'shtola. Follows the "[Foibles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711089/chapters/65760643)" prompt from FFXIV Write 2020.

Rhalgr’s Reach slowly recovered from the assault as the days passed. The bodies had been buried and all rites given, the living granted their too-brief time to mourn. Now came clearing the rubble, repairing what could be repaired, and somehow finding replacements for what could not.

Recruitment and morale were low, but Conrad and M’naago hoped to make steady progress while working with the Alliance forces, as even the token victories managed before the assault had aided their cause considerably. The Imperials, for their part, seemed content to allow the Eorzeans to have the East End and much of the lower Fringes, secure as the enemy was in Castrum Velodyna.

Krile, Arenvald, and a few other junior Scions continued to lend their aid to the efforts, even as they prepared to escort the worst injured back across the border to Gridania once they were well enough to travel. Y’shtola would continue on to Mor Dhona to recover in the comfort of the Rising Stones and take her turn as the senior Scion in the Toll; Thancred was now in the Reach, since she was injured and their comrades headed to the Far East.

Thancred’s mopey thoughtfulness since arriving in Gyr Abania had not been lost on Y’shtola, and she resolved to draw the cause out of him before she left. It would not do to have their senior representative in a surly mood at this critical juncture. The next opportunity presented itself not two days before she was scheduled to leave.

“What exactly is the problem now?” Y’shtola asked as Thancred entered her little sectioned-off “room” in the Barber to deliver her tea, then dropped onto the floor between the bed and the chair she currently inhabited, as he sighed heavily.

“So grouchy. Do you also require your medication?”

“No. And I am not ‘grouchy’. You obviously wish to discuss something.”

“It is not that I mind aiding the war efforts here in Gyr Abania,” he said with no further preamble. “I am simply missing people, with so many now off to the Far East. Having you ready to return to Mor Dhona seems to have sharpened that feeling somehow.”

“I am terribly sorry my recovery is inconvenient to your mood,” she said as she sipped her tea. He had remembered exactly the right amount of honey and cream.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Thancred said, settling onto his back, hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I am merely waiting for you to arrive at the point.”

“Remember when we were all still back in the Waking Sands, and I was rather foolishly pining after certain colleagues?”

“No,” she said, as acerbic as possible. He glanced up and caught her smile. “It only happened often enough to make keeping track difficult,” Y’shtola teased. Then she grew serious. “Except perhaps in one instance, where so far as I can tell, you never truly stopped pining.”

He winced and looked back at the ceiling. “You don’t miss much. Though I like to think I was managing my boyish infatuation and simply enjoying having so good a friend as Aeryn has turned out to be. I honestly expected nothing more, and I know there was...another interest.”

Y’shtola nodded. She had not known Lord Haurchefant well, but what she recalled was entirely favorable. She had returned from the Lifestream after the man’s sacrifice, but had heard much from Alphinaud and Tataru.

“I thought,” Thancred continued. “On my return from the wilderness, that much had changed for both of us. We practically had to learn how to be friends all over again. We sorted it out, however, and talked--about Minfilia, Lord Haurchefant, and others.”

“And you find your ‘boyish infatuation’ renewed?”

“No,” he said flatly. Her ear flicked at the seriousness of his tone. “I know those; they are often fleeting things, much as I enjoy that time and company. Or, did; I’ve not experienced such since...well, since before our Lifestream mishap, actually. Oh, I have spent a night or two sating physical desire with willing company, but it is...less satisfying, after everything.”

“Don’t tell me you have become celibate.”

He laughed. “Perish the thought! But it’s not as much of a priority anymore. For one, events do not always afford the time. But mostly because...There is only one person I am truly interested in, but she is--so far as I know--not interested in me.”

“You just said your infatuation had not returned.”

“It has not,” he replied. “I have been examining the situation, and have come to a new conclusion.”

“Oh?”

“I believe I am...perhaps...falling for her,” Thancred said quietly, reluctantly.

Hearing him say what she had long suspected was somehow still surprising. It was not that he had never fallen in love before--Y’shtola had been present for those few affairs, as both critic and support--but it was exceedingly rare that he allowed himself such a luxury; she had seen him too often sabotage his own relationships, usually due to his own deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy hidden behind his charming smiles and sarcastic wit. The man had only recently developed the capacity--or perhaps more accurately, the willing vulnerability--for the deeper levels of communication required to maintain longer term relationships with an intimate partner. Perhaps that contributed to this realization; Y’shtola knew he and Aeryn had been speaking more.

She also knew a few things Aeryn had confided to her, when seeking a viewpoint with more maturity and experience than Lyse or Tataru could offer.

This was going to be tricky; neither of these dear, swiving idiots would say anything to the other if not nudged--or outright shoved--in the proper direction. Luckily for them, they had both chosen her as a confidante.

“Have you asked her if she is interested?” Y’shtola asked.

He frowned, his uncovered eye turning to her. “I know she does not care for intimate relations--”

“And yet, she has had some form of intimate relationships,” Y’shtola pointed out. “That she does not look at others and feel such attraction does not preclude a want for intimacy--including physical, in some cases. In any event, it does not mean one wants to be without close companionship.” She paused to take another sip from her cup while he thought. “If she is willing for something other than friendship, then she can set boundaries and communicate what she is able to give. ‘Tis a matter of respect and patience, which I know you fully capable of.” She leaned over, careful of her slowly healing injuries. “And I will _not_ hear excuses that you are not ‘good enough’ for the Warrior of Light, Thancred.”

“Gods, I must be in a state, if you are being _kind_ ,” he smiled up at her fondly.

She smiled back and reached down her free hand; he took it and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m a bit surprised, however, that you have no words of warning about entertaining such notions with a colleague,” he said.

Now he was looking for a reasonable out; she wasn’t about to give it to him. “I trust that to be something you have already considered yourself, and part of the reluctance to admit to these feelings,” Y'shtola answered as she let go of his hand and sat back again. “Denying your heart will do no favors for your working relationship, either; it must be confronted and discussed like reasonable adults.”

Not that her friends were reasonable, but they could at least pretend for a time she mused as she sipped more tea. 

“‘Tis a moot point at the moment, you know,” he said. “She is in the East. It shall be moons before they’re all back.”

“Then we shall have to keep you from stewing over the matter too much in the meantime,” Y’shtola replied lightly. “And if your feelings have not changed by the time our colleagues do return to us, then you shall have even less excuse to not speak with the woman.”

“Logical as ever. Thank you, Shtola.”

“You’re welcome, Thancred. Now, will you get off my floor?” She set aside her empty tea cup.

“But it’s cool and actually fairly comfortable. I think I wore myself out running Arenvald through his paces earlier. The boy’s come a long way and has far too much enthusiasm for sparring practice.”

“Thancred, please; I wish to nap.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he replied cheekily, hands behind his head again, a faint smirk on his lips as he closed his eyes.

Y’shtola sighed--exaggerating a tad, perhaps--and carefully, slowly, moved from the chair, giving him only a light kick in the ribs as a formality. He playfully grunted at her tap, otherwise not moving, as she lay down carefully in her bed.

She was not sure if he actually intended to sleep as well, or was simply using her room for the companionable silence and safety from Resistance officers and enthusiastic sparring partners it offered. No matter; she did not truly mind his presence--he knew she had fewer nightmares of Zenos ( _helm looming over her, cold voice taunting before the world shattered, leaving her drowning in her own blood_ ) when another was near--and if Thancred sought his own form of comfort, she could not begrudge him that when their fellow Scions were ever so far away.

The pair slept, keeping each other company.


	11. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early Stormblood 4.0: On the first night upon finally reaching Kugane, Aeryn finds herself distracted from everything else that should be on her mind. NSFW for sexual content (cis woman masturbation).

Kugane’s lights were strange as they filtered in through the screened window. The little room was comfortable, and gods knew Aeryn was glad to be off the rocking seas and creaking ship, back on dry land.

But she did not like accepting Lolorito’s charity.

The thought rankled at her as she paced the room, trying to distract herself from the restless, achy feeling slithering across her middle and down her limbs. She had to admit they knew no one and nowhere else safe in the city, and she and the twins had thoroughly swept the quarters they had been given for any sign of magical or mechanical traps or spy devices--but it seemed the claims of privacy for the clients’ sake was actually true.

It had been a pleasant surprise to see what all Alphinaud had learned from working with Thancred and Riol, though Alisaie had rolled her eyes at her brother’s newest expertise. Aeryn frowned and leaned against the window frame, peeking out into the Ijin District. Thancred’s own expertise would be welcome, as would his solid presence at her side when push inevitably came to shove. Maybe she should have insisted more on his joining them; Krile and Arenvald could surely handle matters in Gyr Abania, given everything…

Aeryn let out a frustrated breath and shifted on her feet, finally concentrating on the heat she felt in her skin. It had naught to do with the weather; the temperature outside was cool. With a frown she turned to her journal on the desk, flipping to the back pages where she counted dates. Ah, that would explain it--she was coming up on a shift in her cycle, and that always left her physically restless. There was really only one thing to do for it.

As she undressed, she idly made note she would have to check the local apothecaries; she wanted the stronger version of her usual tonic to get her through the next moon--or however long they would be in the East. Best to just skip all the worst monthly annoyances.

This was something she couldn’t ever seem to get rid of though; that occasional warm, aching wanting at the apex of her thighs, sending tension down her limbs until she relented to the right sort of relief. It was annoying at times.

She left her nightclothes on the stand next to the bed as she grabbed a spare towel and laid that on the mattress, folded in half. It was an Eorzean feather bed, among other Eorzean furnishings. Hancock’s ‘appreciation’ of all things Hingan did not extend to the guest quarters. The charms of their host country were better suited in the public areas of the office, while familiar comforts worked well enough in private.

Aeryn turned the lamp down to a low glow and slipped naked under the sheets, the towel beneath her as she lay on her stomach. They were very nice sheets, cool and silken against her bare skin, like a soft touch.

It had been a long while since someone else had touched her, not that it was important or necessary--though that last time, that last person, still left a regretful ache in her heart. Time to put it out of mind; she just had to get through this here and now to quell this reaction to the natural, cyclical rhythm of her body.

She hadn’t dared bring any sort of aid with her; those two she even owned did not go into her pack, but stayed in a specific drawer in her room back home. Thank the gods, given Thancred had helped her clean out her pack before leaving the Stones; Aeryn wouldn’t have been able to live through that level of embarrassment. She would simply have to take care of herself in the most basic way while in this part of the world.

Her left hand slid beneath her, fingertips pressing at the right spot, sensation crackling up her spine. She began the circular motions, mind wandering to what fantasy she ought to imagine for herself tonight.

There had been a garden gazebo scene in a novel she had read on the sea voyage, one that with a rewrite could have gone very differently. Where the raven-haired heiress did not push the fair-haired scoundrel away to rush back to relative safety, clutching her accidentally-yet-conveniently-torn dress. Perhaps instead she allowed the ripped fabric to fall away as the scoundrel drew closer, his rough hands hot on her skin as they embraced while kissing hungrily, remaining clothing shoved aside or removed as he lifted her against the ivy-covered wall, her legs wrapping around him…

Aeryn’s breath shuddered as she increased pressure and pace, feeling her own slick growing as she thought of the white-tressed scoundrel, calloused hands rough on her--no, the heiress’--skin, lips leaving a heated trail to take a stiffened nipple in his mouth, the scruff on his chin sending sparks through her--the heiress--his hazel eyes dancing with mischief while he encouraged her pleasure, his too-familiar voice pitched low…

She briefly stilled and moaned into the pillow, realizing three things simultaneously: whose form the novel’s scoundrel had warped into in her mind (or had his always been the image she’d held there?), that this was a rare occasion where the woman’s image had become an avatar for herself, and also how bloody _close_ she already was, her nerves prickling and jumping, a tight shiver throbbing in her core. Her fingers were soaked and going to cramp if she kept holding them like this, if she didn’t just finish, but now she couldn’t get the sudden, naked image of her _friend and colleague_ out of her mind…

To hells with it. Aeryn let out a shuddery breath and resumed her circular rhythm, allowing the hormonal-driven part of her brain loose; imagining it was Thancred in the bed with her, Thancred saying embarrassingly romantic and naughty novel lines in her ear as he moved against and within her, Thancred applying just the right pressure as his lips sealed over hers, Thancred’s hands holding her and cupping her face while his eyes caught hers and his low voice rumbled _“Mine…”_

Aeryn gasped as her hips jerked, pelvic muscles pulsing, while spots and stars danced across her eyelids. The top sheet had been kicked off at some point in her writhing, and perhaps for the best; she had gotten rather sweaty, and her hand and the towel both were wetter than she recalled getting in some time. She took a long moment to catch her breath and then cleared her throat, sitting up.

Well, she did feel better _physically_ at least.

“Stupid book,” she muttered as she grabbed the towel to drop in the hamper before stepping into the small private washroom. East Aldenard truly spared no expense when it came to their guest accommodations.

Aeryn could maybe count on one hand the number of times in her entire life she had even had a sex dream, and of those only twice had her unconscious mind added the image of someone she knew as a partner in such acts, and those had been years ago. Dreams were easier to dismiss anyway than the waking fantasies one used to sate oneself; normally, fictional characters in a scene spun from her imagination did the trick, but _this_ …

It was just stress, her own damned hormones, the new situation, and the novel’s too-similar descriptions. Thancred was the last friendly face she had interacted with before leaving Revenant’s Toll again, and Aeryn was simply missing him and their rebuilt friendship now that she was on the other side of the world from where he was.

The ache was now in her heart, but that she could deal with; missing people she cared about was far too common in her work. The guilt at imagining Thancred _like that_ was new, and she wasn’t sure her face would stop burning by morning no matter how much cold water she used.

She laughed weakly at herself in the mirror before she returned to the bedchamber, wondering if this was a common effect in women under the rogue’s thrall. Not that he had been overtly trying to woo her--or anyone, so far as she knew. He had just been...Thancred, for a welcome change.

Aeryn pulled on her nightclothes and snuffed the lamp entirely and settled in, staring through the dark at the ceiling, hands behind her head as she listened to the new, distant night sounds of Kugane. It wasn’t as if anyone needed to know; she wasn’t exactly going to _tell_ the others that she had fantasized about their comrade. In any case, it was likely that a combination of factors contributed to it this one time. It wasn’t going to ever happen again.

Satisfied--in one way, certainly, though not as much as she would have liked in others--Aeryn rolled to her side to try to get to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I played myself, in that way fanfic authors do. I wasn't planning on posting anymore smutty writing before getting some other WIPs done, but they're being stubborn, and rereading this thread I had the idle thought that went sort of like "haha, maybe sometime I should write an Aeryn parallel to 'Afterimages'...J/K...Unless...?" and now here we frikin' are. Maybe now I can get these other drafts done!))


	12. Girl Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormblood: "The Lady in Red" quest. Before going to the Lochs, Lyse and Aeryn take a moment to spar and have a chat the way best friends do.

Lyse and Aeryn fell on their backs onto the palm of Rhalgr, laughing as their early morning sparring session ended in a draw.

“Maybe we got a little carried away...But you have to admit that was fun,” Lyse said, lolling her head in Aeryn’s direction. “You’re getting better at hand to hand.”

“C’oretta’s been putting me through my paces. Got to keep up with her energy,” Aeryn replied, staring at the now-blue sky, the sun high enough over the mountains to have burned away the last of the early morning colors.

“I should practice with her more then,” Lyse said. “When we’re done with...all this.” She vaguely waved her arm, before letting it flop back to her chest. She kept watching Aeryn. “So what are you going to do once we’ve saved Krile and freed Ala Mhigo?”

“Nap,” Aeryn said immediately, setting off another round of giggles from them both.

“Oh-kay, that’s fair. But after that? Or maybe before?”

“If you’re going fishing you’re going to need actual bait, Lyse.” Aeryn turned her head enough to grin at her friend.

Lyse grinned back and rolled to her side, propping up on her left elbow. “I’m just asking, if there’s anything--or anyone--you’ve been thinking about.”

Aeryn frowned for a moment, looking to the sky again. “...Not particularly.”

Lyse wrinkled her nose. “You’re a terrible liar. C’mon, Aeryn, you can say it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, her hands briefly gesturing from the wrist only before dropping back to their resting spots on her stomach.

“Right, because you didn’t spend half our time in the Far East writing letters to and talking and thinking about certain charming rogues.”

Aeryn didn’t reply, her brows drawing down as she frowned more.

“Aer- _yn_.”

“What do you want, Lyse?” Aeryn sighed, turning now to mirror Lyse, propped on her right elbow.

“For you to admit whatever’s going on in your head concerning—”

“Oh don’t—”

“ _Thancred_ ,” Lyse finished. At Aeryn’s wince and blush, she grinned again. “Aha-ha! I’m right, I knew it.”

“We’re friends—”

“So are you and a lot of other people, none of whom make you look like _that_.”

“...Like _what_?”

“You’re not just blushy, you’re...I dunno, like someone’s knocked the wind out of you, but in a good way. Your eyes practically glitter when you’re looking at him. Which is a lot when he’s around, by the way.”

“You’re exaggerating. Also we’ve seen Thancred for a whole, what, half a bell since we returned?”

“I know what I saw. What I’ve _been_ seeing, every time you got a letter. Or wrote one, for that matter; you even _write_ to him differently than you do to Rashae or anyone else.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes, but the blush had deepened and crept up her ears and down her neck. “You know I don’t--It’s not that easy--I…” she frowned again, trying to organize her thoughts, but from the thoughtful little crease between her eyes, Lyse knew Aeryn was now truly considering it.

“And you believe you messed up with Haurchefant,” Lyse said quietly. Aeryn didn’t respond. “That’s why you don’t realize what’s been happening.”

“And what, pray tell, has been happening?”

“You acting like a besotted schoolgirl, that’s what.”

“I am _not_.”

“Oh yes you are. And it’s _adorable_.”

“Take that back.”

“I shan’t,” Lyse replied in sing-song. Her smile quickly faded and it was her turn to sigh. “I didn’t want you getting involved with him when you first joined the Scions, you know,” she mused. “One, I knew you weren’t interested, and two—well, I’d known Thancred too long.” They both snorted and giggled again.

“But,” Lyse finally continued once they’d calmed. “You two have _always_ had a rapport. You got to be pretty good friends, and I don’t know, it seems like with everything since finding me and Papalymo again, and then after Minfilia left...It’s become _something else_ and it’s...nice.”

Aeryn didn’t answer right away, staring at some spot on the stone palm between them, and for a moment Lyse began to think she had definitely overstepped when Aeryn finally replied, very quietly, “It feels nice.” She frowned and looked at Lyse again, her grey eyes dark. “Things have changed but I don’t know that it’s,” she stopped and thought for a moment. “I don’t want to...ruin anything.”

“I have a hard time believing you could ruin anything, even if you tried.”

“You’d be surprised,” Aeryn said, rolling onto her back again. “I tried relationships when I was a girl in Thavnair. Twice. Neither worked out because...well…”

“You don’t like sex.”

Aeryn winced at Lyse’s bluntness. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just...not something I look for. It’s fun in the moment, but not a priority. And for a lot of people…”

“It’s important,” Lyse said. “So you think any relationship is doomed because you don’t have the same wants as other people?”

Aeryn nodded.

“Hrm. Well, I’m no expert, but seems to me that’s one of those things you’d just have to talk about. That whole being adults...thing.” Lyse waved a hand again, gratified by Aeryn’s small smile in response. “Which you likely just weren’t experienced enough for all those years ago, right?” She paused, frowning. “Orrr, is this also about Haurchefant?”

Aeryn covered her face in her hands and made a frustrated noise. “Gods, if I could purge those rumors and stories and the damned _songs_ about that…” She sighed again and let her hands drop to her chest. “It...was sort of like those earlier attempts. He was kind, and I knew how much he cared for me, and I guess I...tried to reciprocate. Confusing his feelings for mine, maybe? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“You mean because of the Echo?” Each Walker’s Echo was a little bit different, and Aeryn’s made her especially empathic at times, Lyse knew.

Aeryn nodded. “Probably didn’t help that everything after Ul’dah was just...I was lonely, and scared, and I thought…” She shook her head. “I was stupid, and before I could apologize and fix it...Well.”

“You are far from stupid.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make stupid mistakes.”

“Well, sure. Still, you couldn’t have messed up that badly.” At Aeryn’s cringe, Lyse raised a brow. “Come on.”

“I did sleep with him—once.”

“Really?” Lyse rolled onto her stomach, chin propped in both her hands.

Aeryn rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t...It was a stressful day.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. Your idea of a stressful day is different from other peoples’.”

“Fair.” She grinned at Lyse. “I had to babysit Emmanellain de Fortemps.”

“All right, that does explain a lot.”

“He got himself kidnapped by the Vundu…”

“Of _course_ he did.”

“I went ahead, while Honoroit ran back to get aid--so, Haurchefant and a couple Haillenarte knights--and that was the day we learned about Bismark, as Cid rescued us with his ever-exceptional piloting before we were eaten.”

“That _is_ a stressful day, even by your standards.”

“We stayed the night at the Rosehouse, there in the Sea of Clouds. Haurchefant came to my room--he claimed he had some nightmare that I had gone to fight the primal and had to see if I was all right; an irrational concern--”

“I don’t know, it’s what you _do_.”

“Well, yes, but not--anyroad, we spoke, and...held one another; not uncommon. But I felt as though something in me just...broke, and I wanted...I don’t know. Comfort? Closeness? ...I fear I may have simply used him…”

“I doubt that,” Lyse said gently. “You cared for him, right?”

Aeryn nodded.

“Well there you go. You had a vulnerable moment like any of us mere mortals,” she ignored Aeryn’s latest eyeroll. “It happened. And given what I’ve heard of Haurchefant, it couldn’t have been _that_ terrible.”

“It wasn’t! But...As soon as he left—had to ‘protect my reputation’ or whatever—I realized...I didn’t,” Aeryn huffed as she paused in thought again. “I loved him, but not...like that. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”

“And what’d he say to that?”

“That’s the thing; we never got to talking about it. I...avoided him for a bit after that, just to get my own head straight, think about what I wanted to say and why...and then we went on our mission to Dravania, and then it was just one thing after another and…” Her voice cracked. She took a breath and shook her head. “I regret not taking the opportunity to be honest with him.”

“Makes sense. And I can see why you’re hesitating to open up like that again. You’re afraid what you’re feeling is a reflection of Thancred’s feelings.”

Aeryn made a face. “I wouldn’t go so far as to presume what he feels—“

“I would,” Lyse stated. She smirked at Aeryn, then shrugged. “Before I would have said this is one of his fleeting infatuations. Buuut I’ve been watching since we rejoined you all in Mor Dhona, and he’s been...different.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well if I didn’t know better, lots of what I hear about how he behaved, up ‘til about Papalymo and I got back to the Toll, sounds like he was flat jealous.”

“Of what?”

Lyse scoffed. “Of other people being interested in you, of course. Not that you notice that ever. There’ve been talks he and I have had, where I look back and realize there were multiple meanings going on and I hate that he can’t just talk plainly like a normal person, but anyway the biggest one was when we _did_ see him briefly in Castrum Oriens before he went off to find Krile.”

“He seemed normal to me,” Aeryn said, though she was pointedly not looking at Lyse.

Lyse recalled how Thancred had turned and smiled, his shoulders lifting as if a weight had been removed from them; not unusual in anyone, really, when the Warrior of Light walked by, but something about Thancred had _lit up_ from within, and his uncovered eye had practically devoured Aeryn head to toe before simply settling on her, like someone basking in a sunbeam in the bath. In all the time Lyse had known him, he had _never_ looked at anyone like that. And Lyse had known Thancred through some of his earliest attempts at relationships, when the experiences and emotions were all new (and Yda had teased him so much back in those days, before Lyse herself really understood what was happening), as well as more recent ones as an adult he had no real serious interest in.

“Well, he wasn’t normal,” Lyse said, uncertain how to explain it all out loud. “Neither were you, for that matter. If you’re acting like a schoolgirl, he’s just as bad.”

“Ugh!” Aeryn sat up, wincing a little, resting her arms on her half-drawn-up knees. “I still say you’re exaggerating.” She looked away. “...And given my Echo, it’s possible just one of us reflecting off the other.”

Progress, of a sort. Lyse sat up too. “I still say I’m not, and I don’t think so. Know how I know?”

“How Lyse?” Aeryn glanced at her friend, brows drawn into a helplessly annoyed expression.

“The way you were in the East when he was nowhere around,” Lyse reminded her. “Writing him letters, and excited to get his personal reply along with the reports. You wouldn’t even realize you were mentioning him, or telling stories, and the way you sounded and looked when doing so. And I know you were thinking about him _other times_ , too.” She smirked as Aeryn went crimson again.

“...Fine. _Maybe_. It’s still...weird and makes no sense and doesn’t mean anything.”

“Means a whole lot, actually. You _did_ say earlier that it felt nice.”

“Yes but...He’s a friend, and a colleague, and he...well…” Aeryn made a helpless gesture.

“Oh no; use your words!”

Aeryn let out an exasperated noise. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again,” she blurted finally.

“So, don’t,” Lyse shrugged, chin on her hand, elbow propped on a knee. “You know what went wrong with Haurchefant, and those others when you were younger. Thancred’s a smart man, and more considerate than he lets on. You can figure it out.”

“I don’t know that I should. It may not be a good idea, given...everything.”

“‘Everything’ like what, exactly?”

“Like, that we live and work together as Scions. That we’re in the middle of a war--which, by the way, we really ought to be meeting the others--and just… _everything_.”

“You mean being the Warrior of Light.”

Aeryn sighed. “Gotta admit, there’s a lot of...a lot, with it. Most of it I don’t even want.”

“Or it’s all the more reason, given who else outside the Scions really knows what you do?” Lyse shrugged as she got to her feet and stretched. “Food for thought, at least.” She reached down to offer Aeryn a hand up. “I think it’s a good idea, for the record,” she said as she hauled Aeryn to her feet and into a hug. “But that may be because I want to see my friends happy.”

Aeryn returned the embrace. “Thanks, Lyse. Let’s get cleaned up and meet the others.”

She was deflecting again, but that was all right; she was at least thinking about it now. Lyse nodded in agreement. “Thanks for the practice; I know I feel better.”

They negotiated the massive stone wrist and forearm to reach the entryway back into the old temple, then down the long, twisting stairs to the base. On emerging from the old door at the literal foot of the statue, they were met by Resistance runners delivering updates on matters in the Lochs, and a request from General Aldynn to return as soon as possible now that Alisaie and the other injured were safely in the Reach.

Lyse sighed as the runners left to make their next deliveries. “Guess cleanup can wait. If we teleport to Ala Ghiri we can meet Pipin and the others there and head to Praetoria together.”

“Good thing it has to wait, since _Naago’s_ already there,” Aeryn said, a sly smirk on her face as Lyse stumbled.

“Wha—? I don’t know what you--Since when did she okay you calling her that?”

“I’m just pointing out that _you_ call her that. Often. And I’m thinking maybe she can help you clean up since you’re so _familiar_.”

“ _Aeryn_!” Lyse gawped.

“What?” She asked, all fake sweet innocence, hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her toes.

Lyse peered. “Maybe you do notice more than you let on,” she muttered. Then shook her head. “I’m the Commander of the Resistance now, which means Na- _M’_ Naago is my subordinate--don’t you _dare_!” she threatened, wagging a finger as Aeryn bit her lip, though that did nothing to suppress her giggles. “And it...it wouldn’t be proper or professional or...or something…” Rhalgr’s sake, now _Lyse_ was the one feeling hot and blushing; her skin must have nearly matched her dress.

Aeryn patted Lyse’s shoulder as she buried her face in her hands. “I think no one’s going to care.”

“You know what? I take it all back; you’ve obviously spent too much time with Thancred already. Any more and it’s irresponsible levels of corruption.”

Aeryn laughed. “Don’t poke if you can’t handle getting poked back, Lyse!” She wrapped her arm around Lyse’s back and gave her a quick hug. “Though I do think you two are cute and I definitely know what I’ve seen is not me projecting,” she stage-whispered, grinning.

Lyse side-eyed her, trying very hard to be grumpy. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend and I love you or I’d kick your arse so hard right now.”

“Like you didn’t half a bell ago?”

“That was a _draw_! I could have had you!”

“Probably!” Aeryn sang, adjusting so they were walking arm in arm as they crossed the Reach toward the aetheryte.

Lyse grumbled, but couldn’t help smiling, too. This had been a nice reprieve from everything else going on before the final push to Ala Mhigo, and hopefully saving Krile along the way.

Alphinaud joined them at the aetheryte, grinning in that cheeky way he had when he had gotten the last word in on his and Alisaie’s latest verbal spar. Just to playfully annoy him, Lyse lightly punched him in the arm while Aeryn ruffled his hair before she initiated the teleport to Ala Ghiri for all three of them, to get back to the business of the war.

Despite that, Lyse knew that at some point in all this mess she was going to have to catch and play Little Sister to their resident sneak and probably just straight up bully him into _admitting_ what he was thinking and spur him to _do_ something about it. These two idiots would be happy one way or another, dammit, if Lyse had her way.

And if nothing else it might distract them from Lyse’s own love life issues. One could always hope, anyroad.


	13. Make it Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormblood: As the Alliance prepares to assault Ala Mhigo, the Warrior of Light frets about the inevitable confrontation with Zenos.

Aeryn stood on one of the hills overlooking Porta Praetoria, arms crossed tightly around herself, her gaze fixed on the lights of Ala Mhigo across the Lochs as the stars wheeled overhead and the camp below settled, as much as it could, into anticipatory rest.

“Tomorrow we shall be there,” Thancred’s voice said from behind her. She didn’t turn nor respond. He walked up alongside Aeryn, nearly soundless despite the gravelly ground. “You’ve been even quieter than usual since we rescued Krile, and your brow seems perpetually furrowed,” he continued.

“As you said: tomorrow we assault the city.”

“I had a good look through most of their defenses. I cannot imagine the Garleans have anything that gives you pause.”

She frowned. “Besides Zenos, you mean?”

Thancred shrugged, conciliatory. “Besides Zenos, perhaps. But it’s not as if you’ll be alone in there against him.”

Aeryn let out a huff of frustration. “We’ve seen fragments of what he’s capable of, and he has only left any alive in his wake due to bored choice. I haven’t been able to stand against him the times I’ve tried, and if I can’t protect myself, how can I ensure anyone else’s safety?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that you are not entirely, personally responsible for the lives of all who choose to fight alongside you?”

She was quiet a long moment, before giving him a side-eye. “You’re one to talk.”

He chuckled. “Well _someone_ has impressed upon me the importance of sharing concerns, and relying on one’s team.”

She simply peered at him.

“It’s such sound advice, I’d thought I’d pass it on,” he deadpanned.

They stood in silence for a moment longer, before she finally said, in a barely voiced whisper, “I’m worried.”

“Good.”

She blinked. Thancred shrugged. “I will be concerned when combat _doesn’t_ cause trepidation. When you’ve truly bought into your own growing myth as the unstoppable Warrior of Light.” He gave her a sad smile. “We both know it isn’t that easy, even when we Scions are ourselves falling into the trap of singing your praises.”

She blushed and looked out over the city again. “I feel like he wants something from me, but I’m not sure what. Not just...a good fight, whatever that means to him. I fear he will stop at nothing to get whatever it is he wants, and naught will matter--he’ll kill anyone in his way, even his own people. It was _his_ order Fordola followed at Specula Imperatoris.”

“You can’t spend all night trying to get inside the head of a madman; you’ll run yourself in circles and it will do no one any good. Least of all yourself.”

Aeryn shook her head. “You didn’t hear him in Yanxia when Yugiri and I made our ridiculous assassination attempt. You weren’t there when he...” she trailed off, the memories of that night, and of Rhalgr’s Reach before it, threatening to rise, the healed wound in her midsection aching suddenly.

“No, I wasn’t.” His quiet reply was tinged with regret. After a moment, he held a hand out to her, palm up.

Aeryn looked at the hand a moment, noticing the familiar, worn features of both skin and glove. She finally reached back, resting her hand on his.

He closed his fingers around hers and pulled her suddenly, his other hand on her waist as they spun, her feet instinctively responding, free hand on his shoulder. Only a single turn, and then they were carefully swaying there on the hilltop, to unheard music.

“...Been awhile,” she finally said, once over the surprise. Not since before That Banquet, she left unsaid. _Before I lost you all...Before we lost so much..._

“Indeed,” he replied. “And may be again, with war on the morrow. I would make a promise about dancing at our victory fete when all is said and done--”

“ _...Don’t…_ ”

“--But you dislike such declarations. So do I, truth be told. That constant uncertainty of combat is what has us both up here at this hour. So, tell me if there is aught I can do here and now to make things better, or at least easier, so our champion may get her needed rest. Lucky us, we’re in the van tomorrow.”

“Aren’t we always?” She replied with a bitter laugh. He had been sure to turn them so that she was no longer facing the city, instead seeing the shadowy crags and valleys of Gyr Abania’s mountains stretching in all directions.

It was just them, the darkness, and the wind. He was sure-footed as ever as they swayed and almost-shuffled. Aeryn could feel Thancred’s heart beating steadily as she rested her head on his shoulder and let out a heavy breath.

“Honestly, this helps a great deal,” she said, knowing her blush was returning as she did. “Maybe in some ways I was ‘buying into’ it all, at least enough to feel...very alone.”

“Well, you’re not,” he said certainly. Then, quieter, “If I have a say, you never will be again.”

That made her pause. “What?”

“...Tomorrow we shall all be at your side, as will all of our friends and allies,” he said in a not-quite-normal tone and volume. “All Eorzea, together. As it should be.”

“Go back to what you said a moment ago.”

“Master Louisoix dreamed of this, you know; if only he were here--”

“ _Thancred_.” She stopped dancing, peering at him again. Her own pulse felt loud and that blush was starting to burn.

He stopped as well, eye cast to the side, obviously mentally running through a dozen different excuses or obfuscations. Finally, Thancred sighed. “I could claim it a slip of the tongue--and it was--I don’t wish to further distract or distress you, but…” He very gingerly cupped her cheek. “I meant it.” His thumb brushed the corner of her lips. His next words were very careful. “I realized somewhat recently how much you mean to me.”

She expected, from her few prior experiences with such declarations, a rush of anxiety, a pressure in her chest and fears in her mind--but none of it came. Instead she leaned into the touch, and then settled against him again in a loose embrace, well past pretending to dance. “Much as I felt alone, there wasn’t anyone I thought I needed time with. Until you walked up; this feels...right.”

“Even if my ‘advice’ is naught but platitudes and reaffirmation?”

“It isn’t. And you still...care enough to try.” She said the word cautiously.

He squeezed her gently. “And I should like to discuss that further--but the hour grows late, the morning comes early. There should be opportunity, after--so long as we keep our heads tomorrow. Not a promise,” he added hastily.

“More a...clarification,” Aeryn responded. He chuckled; she felt it, more than heard it, as she leaned on him.

“How about this: When all is said and done, we owe each other a long talk?”

She thought about that, listening to his heartbeat--a bit faster now, if not by much--and weighing the risks of distractions, of waiting to speak versus not chancing it and speaking now.

At her back loomed Ala Mhigo, and the helmed figure who wanted something she couldn’t, wouldn’t, give.

“All right,” Aeryn agreed.

“We should perhaps return to our respective chambers,” Thancred said quietly. The core Scions had each been granted small officer quarters, alongside the leaders of the Alliance. Barely enough room to move in, but relatively private and quiet for needed sleep.

She stepped away. They walked together down the hill and toward the barracks.

“You’re still overthinking.”

Aeryn nodded, but didn’t respond further. He sighed. They paused outside her door, but before he could say good evening, she snagged his wrist, looking down, feeling that damnable blush heat her face again as she tried to think of the best way to say what she needed. 

She had thought she wanted to be alone; now that he was there, she couldn’t bear the thought.

“Aeryn?”

“You asked how to make it better, if possible.”

“I did.”

“...Don’t leave me alone? Not for—I don’t—I mean—“

He put a finger to her lips, silencing her. “I understand.” He sounded amused, and when she looked up his gentle expression confirmed it. “Sometimes company, even in simple sleep, is the best defense against one’s own mind.”

She let out a breath and nodded a thanks as she unlocked the door. Aeryn paused as she opened it, a sudden smile crossing her lips. “Perhaps explains a few things.”

He peered at her and the sudden change of tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Aeryn shrugged. “Oh, just thinking of some of your well-known habits,” she teased.

“... _Former_ habits, thank you very much. I could leave again if teasing me is how you intend to spend the rest of the night.”

“Could, but you won’t.”

He shook his head and sighed, but with a hint of a smile still as he followed her inside. “No, I won’t. Small price to pay, I suppose, and there are far worse torments I can imagine.”

They shut the door against the looming events of the morrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on February 22, 2020. Despite its recency, this received some serious edits)


	14. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormblood Patches: In the immediate aftermath of the Lakshmi battle in the Ala Mhigan Throne Room, Aeryn and Thancred are keyed up and needing an outlet for that tension. NSFW for sexual content (cis man & cis woman).

Aeryn paused on her way back to her quarters. The Scions had been given a few chambers in one wing of the palace during their stay in Ala Mhigo, the building still mostly empty aside from some of the Resistance and Alliance leaders, and the guests who had taken the first steps to forming an interim government, after the initial...interruption of their meeting.

That terror in the throne room still made her heart race; if she or Arenvald or Fordola had been but a touch slower, had slipped even once--

She let out a shaky breath. It hadn’t happened; everyone was safe. That didn’t do much to calm her nerves, left in fight mode the rest of the evening. Even watching the stars and a conversation with Raubahn hadn’t proved calming enough.

Aeryn realized the door she stood before wasn’t her own. There was no thought to giving a gentle rap on the ornate wood frame--but no answer came from within, and the handle proved to be locked. She sighed and continued to her own chamber after all, unlocking the door, stepping inside, and locking it again behind her.

She lit a single lamp; there was no need for more. She had removed her gloves, weapons, and boots, and was slipping out of her long red coat, when she realized she was not alone in the room. A familiar vest, bandana, and weapon belts were draped over the back of a chair, gloves on the seat, well-worn boots at its feet. A shadow moved at the open balcony door, watching the clear sky, as she had been doing not so long ago from the rooftop menagerie.

“My pardons,” Thancred said softly. In the dim light she could see him, sleeveless undershirt pale against his tanned skin. “If I’m intruding I can go, but…”

Aeryn relaxed and finished removing her coat. Her blouse felt sticky after the day’s heat and exertions, the cool night air welcome. “You’re not intruding--I actually stopped by your chambers on my way here, but this explains the lack of response.” She walked across the room, reaching for him. He opened his arms, allowing her to step in close and rest her head on his shoulder, a hand on his back, the other sliding up his arm. He returned the embrace, face buried in the crook of her neck as he let out a long, shuddering breath. “Helluva day,” she said, running fingers through his long hair.

His response might have been a laugh, muffled as it was against her skin, warm and damp. He squeezed her tighter.

She was not surprised; she had seen the contemplative look on his face, the old fear in his uncovered eye. Even before his singular comment about being delayed by the turned guards, she had sensed his turmoil, felt his eyes watching her. Not that she needed the Echo to guess where his mind had gone.

“Everything’s fine,” Aeryn said, as much for herself as for him. “No one else was turned. We knew how to stop it this time.”

He lifted his head, brushing his lips across her cheek, the stubble on his chin comfortably scratchy. “I know, and I am relieved. It just...felt all a bit too familiar, didn’t it?”

Betrayed by their own soldiers into a beastman ambush intent to turning them all to a primal’s worship--and Thancred locked outside, unable to reach them.

“It did,” she admitted, turning her head to face him. “But this time was different, too, and we had help.” His lips were right there, so she caught them with hers before he could reply again.

Thancred responded with a heat she hadn’t entirely expected; he had been cautious, in these weeks since the liberation, since they had begun...whatever this was between them. Allowing her to set the boundaries, content to simply hold her close when she wished for his company.

This however...his fingers tangled in her hair, other hand on the small of her back pulling her tight against him, the solid warmth of his frame a contrast to the cool night air. She found herself captured instead, her mouth opening to his, tasting the fire and salt of his desire and feeling her own pulse rising in response.

The kiss broke, and she gasped, as much in surprise as for air. Thancred leaned his forehead against hers. “Apologies,” he said, voice hoarse. “I shoul--”

“Don’t stop,” she blurted out, lifting her eyes to meet his. “Please…”

Mismatched eyes blinked in surprise, and then he was kissing her again, hands running roughly over her body. She pressed against him, desperate to be even closer--to feel his pulse hammering in time with her own, the catch in his breath, hear him roughly whisper her name and know it was him, still him, no primal’s thrall…

Thancred lifted her, and Aeryn wrapped around him. The time it took to reach the bed seemed both interminable and instant before falling onto the mattress together. As they half-crawled toward the headboard she tugged at his thin undershirt, until she had it pulled over his head and he had to toss it to the side. His hand slid up the front of her torso as he leaned over her. “Shall I return the favor?” He asked, flicking at the buttons of her blouse.

His tone was teasing, but the question genuine; she had not been shirtless before him, certainly not in this context.

Aeryn took a breath, finding his eyes once more. “Please,” she whispered. When he embraced her again, she wanted-- _needed_ \--to feel his skin against hers.

He leaned in and she happily drowned in another kiss, barely aware of his deft fingers opening the blouse, until his palm slid over her bared stomach, up her side, tracing the edge of her brassiere toward her back as he gruffly whispered, “And this?”

“Please,” Aeryn repeated, his skin almost feverishly hot under her palms, his heartbeat speeding as she pushed him over until they lay side by side, and with only a little fumbling she was just as topless, her garments dropped off the side.

Thancred paused, and she watched his eyes rake over her, before his hands and mouth began more thorough explorations. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured against her skin.

“It’s fi--iiine!” she squeaked as his teasing teeth found a spot he knew was ticklish, from previous private evenings. “But that’s not fair!”

“Isn’t it?” He looked up at her, feigning innocence. “I do so like making you squirm.”

“Seems to me you have other options at the moment.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, before returning to tickling her sides.

Aeryn squeaked again, reaching to retaliate, having long since discovered equally sensitive spots he normally kept secret. “Hey!” he laughed.

“You started it!”

Thancred rolled and grabbed her wrists, pinning her to the mattress beneath him. “And now I’m ending it,” he said, his lips barely brushing hers.

“Think so?” Aeryn insisted, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

He shifted, and there was now the pressure of his thigh between hers, making her gasp and arch. “I can be very distracting, you know,” he answered in a husky tone that made her shiver before they kissed again, his hands sliding up to twine his fingers through hers as he shifted once more. Aeryn sucked in a breath--his breath--as he rocked his pelvis against hers. “Assuming you’re amenable to such distractions,” he murmured against her lips when a pause was necessary.

The question hung in the air; at a word they would remain in this pleasantly torturous state of play until falling asleep curled up together, for him to slip out in the morning before anyone else could notice. As they had been doing, when they could manage such stolen moments.

_‘Do not your mortal bodies tire? Far better to dwell in a dream…’_

To hells with that. This reality, of him solid and heated in her bed, was better than any dream.

Aeryn met Thancred’s gaze in the dim light. “Please,” she said again, allowing her own longing to emphasize the word.

He let out a moaning breath of relief and desire, his lips leaving a hot trail on her neck, across her collarbone, and then down, down, down...The night air was cool on her quickly bared legs, his touch blistering and she was soon panting, fingers clenching in his hair.

“Who needs primal gods,” he said, each syllable scribed on her most sensitive skin. “This is the only worship I care for.”

Aeryn could not respond, any comments scattered from her mind at the supplication of his mouth, his hands. What use was a kami’s blessing when it was the air she could not breathe, drowning in sensation as stars danced across her vision, the tension tighter and tighter with each stroke until the dam finally burst. She may have gasped his name; she couldn’t think clearly for a good minute.

She was aware of his warm, rough hands sliding over her body, his lips on the curve of her shoulder as he came alongside her once more. There was a vague realization his pants had also been removed. Aeryn leaned into him, still breathless, no longer concerned by the night’s chill, only the heat between them.

“I’ve long wondered at the sounds of your pleasure,” Thancred said in her ear, in a delightfully low tone. “Sweeter music I’ve not heard in an age, if still quiet. Is there aught that can make you scream, Aeryn?”

She laughed weakly. “Charmer. If there is, I’m sure you’ll discover it.”

“That sounds like permission.”

“Maybe,” she replied, lightly tracing her nails down his chest. “Or shall I return the favor?” She mimicked his tone from earlier.

He pulled her close again and she wrapped around him, tasting herself in his mouth, feeling his own need along her thigh. “I already have an idea what I want,” he replied roughly.

Aeryn took Thancred’s face in her hands, making him look at her. For a moment they were completely still. She licked her suddenly parched lips. “ _Please_ ,” she said once more.

“ _Aeryn_ ,” he breathed out, and then they were _finally_ pressed as tightly as she had been needing, moving as one, her nails raking his back as each motion sent another lightning bolt through her, already sensitive but needing more, more, more, _please_ …

This release was no less intense, her vision blank for a moment. He paused for her and then moved again, and again, and then he called her name as he fell and so she held him tight. She became aware again of their ragged breaths, rapid heartbeats, the sweat soaking them both.

He held her, his breath shuddering and not only from their exertions. Aeryn kissed his eyes and stroked his hair. In the dimming light of the single lamp she noticed the scratches she had left on his back and murmured a Cure. Thancred let out a long, shaky sigh as the healing energies rolled over him.

“Not necessary,” he said, nuzzling against her neck. “Didn’t seem that any broke skin.”

“One did,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be. The mark of a job well done, after all.” Aeryn could _hear_ his smirk. She grabbed one of the smaller pillows and bapped him. “Hey! Don’t start a fight you can’t win.”

“Who says I can’t?” She responded. “Let me up; I need to go to the wash.”

He grumbled and squeezed her, but quickly relented. Aeryn knew he watched as she made her way to the washroom, legs still rubbery enough to make her feel clumsy. She was surprised at how _not_ self-conscious she felt.

Aeryn tried not to take too long, but paused to look in the mirror. Still circles under her eyes--she really needed more sleep--but some of the tension had faded. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, when this finally happened, but she hadn’t thought calm and nearly normal to be the result.

Then again, hadn’t it been what she needed, after today?

She returned to the main room, picking up the guttering lamp. Thancred watched her from where he sat propped up in the bed. He had kicked the blanket to the foot, the sheets drawn over his lap. He looked concerned. “Are you all right?”

Aeryn nodded, setting the lamp on the nightstand as she crawled in next to him. “Better than in awhile, if anything,” she replied, reaching for him.

He remained stiff, brows furrowed. “I must apologize,” he said. “I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking; I swear to you I’m not normally so reckless, especially not…” Thancred hesitated.

She blinked, and then realized what he meant. “Well, I wasn’t exactly thinking, either. But it’s fine; I’ve been taking something for awhile.”

He raised a brow. “Oh?”

Aeryn shrugged, feelin the blush creep back. “I’ve had my share of young and stupid moments, believe it or not. It’s just too convenient the rest of the time.” At his blank look, she continued. “Regulates one’s cycle and alleviates some of the more...annoying symptoms.”

“Ah. Makes sense. For a moment I was nearly flattered into thinking you’d been planning this seduction after all.”

She scoffed, though noted how he had mostly relaxed again. She took the opportunity to lean on him. “Who exactly decided to break into my locked room and was already mostly undressed when I got here?”

“I expected naught more than comforting sleep,” he replied blithely, wrapping an arm around her. “You were the one who begged for more.” He reached across and put the nearly-spent lamp flame out of its misery.

“Is that what you think that was?”

“Most certainly.” He turned to whisper in her ear, “And I so enjoyed hearing it.”

Aeryn felt her face burn now, and even in the dark she hid it in the crook of his neck. “Maybe if you behave yourself you’ll hear it again. Maybe.”

“Oh really? And what, pray tell, constitutes behaving?” He asked, his hands and mouth beginning to tease her again.

She rested a hand over his and pressed two fingertips to his seeking lips. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

He sighed. “As you wish, but I should leave fairly early, lest someone take note.”

“So long as you wake me before you go,” Aeryn said as they lay down, gently pushing him back to use him as a pillow. “No sneaking out.”

“Very well,” Thancred responded, pressing a far less amorous kiss to the top of her head, his hand sleepily brushing up and down her back for a few more moments.

They murmured idly to one another, fragments of conversation that started, paused, picked up part way, and would only be half-remembered later as they allowed themselves this moment of comfort, to drift off restfully together before the next dawn’s challenges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published to Tumblr on February 7, 2020)


	15. Betting Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormblood Patches: Everyone gathers in Ala Mhigo the night before the all-important Council Meeting to determine the Alliance's course against Garlemald and the Ascians--and despite attempts at secrecy, a few friends in need of amusing distraction have noticed the shift in Aeryn and Thancred's relationship.

Thancred took Aeryn and Y’shtola’s report with a thoughtful frown, the Scions keeping to the edge of the dining hall while some of the Alliance leaders ate and spoke with Ala Mhigo’s interim council. Alisaie said little, excusing herself as soon as could be considered proper.

“I was hoping to speak with Lyse,” Aeryn said as they watched their former colleague hurry after the departing Alisaie. “But I can wait until morning.” She stretched as they stood.

“There are chambers prepared for each of us,” Thancred said. “Lyse did rather well organizing it all. Gives everyone time to rest up properly before the main event.”

“A moment to rest? How novel,” Aeryn said.

“Your quarters are on the way to mine,” Thancred said. “I can show you.”

She nodded. “Unless there’s anything else, Y’shtola…?”

“No, I believe we are all caught up ‘til tomorrow’s meeting. Rest well.” She managed to keep a straight face as the other two Scions walked off.

“Do they honestly believe they are fooling anyone?” Merlwyb asked dryly from behind and to Y’shtola’s right.

She did grin this time, as she turned to look up at the Admiral. “Well, there are a few who have yet to catch on. ‘Tis their business.”

“Indeed,” Raubahn agreed as he joined them. “Still, it would be nice to be openly pleased for them both. I’ve known Thancred for several years now; he seems quite happy in her presence.”

“As does she in his,” Kan-E sighed. “For all she, and the rest of the Scions, do for this realm they deserve a touch of happiness.”

“Hrmph.” Merlwyb crossed her arms, a smile tugging at her lips. “I do think certain lord commanders might be disappointed, should the winds carry words to his icy halls.”

Y’shtola shook her head. “I think not; he has more sense, and I feel ‘twas but a passing fancy. After all she did for Ishgard, and him personally, it was not unexpected. In the end, however, I do believe he is satisfied with her friendship.”

Besides, Y’shtola knew, not only had Aeryn been utterly oblivious to Aymeric’s careful flirtations, but she had still been mourning Haurchefant, Ysayle, and Minfilia at the time. So much had happened during their adventures in Ishgard; perhaps, had things been different, Aeryn might have been coaxed into noticing the lord commander’s interest.

Then again, Thancred had returned by that point, and their connection had always been strong.

Y’shtola shrugged. “I only ask that their privacy be respected, and all play along for now. They will reveal their relationship--or not--in their own time.”

“Or one of their less discreet companions discovers their affair and tells all,” Merlwyb said. “My money’s on Alisaie.”

“Lyse,” Raubahn countered. “She’s one of Aeryn’s best friends.”

“Seedseer?” Merlwyb looked down at the padjal.

“Hrm. Arenvald,” she finally answered. “He is easily flustered, and this would certainly do so.”

“None for Alphinaud?” Merlwyb asked. The others scoffed good-naturedly and shook their heads--all covering their own concerns for the missing Scion.

“Intelligent as the boy is there are still some things he misses,” Raubahn said. “Particularly where Aeryn is concerned.”

“I’m reliably told one doesn’t see one’s elder sister in such a light,” Kan-E deadpanned, eliciting a round of chuckles. “Hence my bet for Arenvald.”

Y’shtola suppressed her own excess mirth. The friendly wagers--never for more than a hundred gil for civility’s sake--were not unusual between the trio, though the subject perhaps was. Thancred had known the three leaders long enough to be resigned to his fate; Aeryn might be initially mortified, though in the end perhaps find embarrassed amusement in the situation. “I shall keep that in mind, and of course let you know,” Y’shtola said. It was not the first time she had been used as witness to their wagers, either.

“‘Tis done then,” Merlwyb said, arms dropping to her side as she straightened. “For now, we should perhaps retire to our own chambers and actually rest before tomorrow’s work.”

Y’shtola nodded, bidding each of them good evening. The Admiral wasn’t wrong; there was much to be done before and after the council meeting. Amusing a distraction as her friends’ antics were, there were far more important matters to prepare for the morrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as an Ask response to Tumblr on December 8, 2019)


	16. Descriptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Shadowbringers: Over time, a certain curious girl asks her guardian to tell her about the Warrior of Darkness they hope will soon arrive in Norvrandt.

“So what’s she like?” Minfilia asked, arms wrapped around her drawn-up knees.

He did not answer right away, staring into the campfire for a long while, until she then hesitantly said, “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to tell me—“

“It isn’t that,” he replied hastily. “I’m just trying to decide where to start.” He frowned.

“Well. What does she look like?”

He glanced at Minfilia, then chuckled. “She is...radiant, is the best way I can describe it. Hyu--Sorry. _Hume_ , like us, only a couple ilms shorter than myself. Fine-spun hair like strands of midnight silk, and grey eyes that change with her moods; a fine mist when she’s feeling sentimental, rain clouds when she’s sad, a storm when angry. Her eyes crinkle up at the corners when she smiles; that’s how you know it’s real. A real smile lets out some of that warmth she carries, that draws so many to her side.”

The fire flickered and cracked as he watched it, smiling now himself. Minfilia peered, unable to read that faraway look on his face. She had never seen such an expression before--but her experiences were rather limited.

“She was so quiet, when we first met. Hardly said a word--gestures and a look were all far more common; she’s very physically expressive. But once you do get her talking, she’s witty, a bit sarcastic, but still kind. When she can be. She _prefers_ to be. But actions mean the most with her. She just...does things for people, likes to take care of them. She actually seeks out chores and jobs to do, to keep herself busy and help others. It can be as frustrating as it is endearing.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

He started, almost as if he had forgotten Minfilia was there. “She is,” he replied, the faraway look gone; Minfilia thought that was too bad. “But now it’s time for young ladies to get some sleep.”

She nodded and complied, sliding into the small tent he had pitched for her, shade and shelter from the Everlasting Light above and the cooling air all around. She peeked out through the tent flaps. He continued to sit on the old log, elbows on his knees, staring at the fire with another of those strange expressions on his face. She fell asleep watching him watch the flames.

* * *

  
He crumbled the missive in his hands and exclaimed a word Minfilia had only read in her most grown-up book, and only spoken by the villainous character (Ran’jit had taken the book away before she could finish it, having made the mistake of discussing the story; perhaps Urianger had a copy in his library…).

“Alphinaud’s trapped here now! At this rate our whole bloody order will be in Norvrandt before Aeryn arrives!” He growled.

“She’s really important, isn’t she?” Minfilia asked, holding her cloak closed. Everything felt too bright, with the light reflecting off the sands.

He sighed heavily. “She’s the only other one who can handle the Light’s corruption. Without her, we can’t hope to succeed in saving both our worlds--or her.”

“I could fight them,” Minfilia offered. “It’s what I’m--”

He reached over and put a hand on her head. “It shouldn’t have to come to that,” he said, almost gently. He dropped his hand. “And you’ve a long way to go, given our exercises this morning,” he pointed out, his tone hardening again. “She has quite a bit more practice facing impossible odds, and is stronger in the Blessing than... _almost_ anyone else I’ve ever known.” He jerked his head, and then began walking in that direction.

She hurried to keep up; he always walked so fast when he was irritated. “Tell me about her,” she asked.

“I already have.”

“But not everything,” she countered. “How is one person supposed to change the world?”

He stopped so abruptly she almost ran into him. They hovered on the edge of town, the sands stretching listlessly between them and their next destination.

“That’s what she does,” he replied. He began moving again, but this time at a far more reasonable clip; she didn’t have to almost-run to keep up. “With the Echo, she can learn the truth of a matter, see the past and what happened. Those visions, and her willingness to face those who would hide the truth, to stop those who would go to lengths to obtain forbidden power for themselves, ended a thousand year war. Ended the occupation of two nations.” He paused. “Saved my life--possibly my soul.”

“Really?” Minfilia gasped, staring up at him.

He blinked, and then gifted her a smile. “Aye; I had been...foolish, and it led to my possession by an Ascian. Under his control, I did unspeakably terrible things, many of them to the people I love most. Usually, once they take you, death is the only release for their host. But her Light was strong enough to cut through the deepest Shadow, breaking the bond that held me, driving the enemy from my body. She brought me home, and her smile was among the first I remember seeing upon waking. All the others were waiting for me as well, of course, but now that I had seen her brilliance, it was impossible to unsee it.”

“So you admire her for saving you?”

He frowned in thought, brows drawn together as they walked the sandy path. “In part, perhaps. Truthfully, I had...admired her for a time before that. But I thought myself beneath her consideration.” He shook his head. “Perhaps more so after my rescue.”

Minfilia had seen women blush into their hands and watch him, whispering to one another, when he walked by. She had observed as he charmed people in daily conversation to wheedle out information, or simply save a few more gil. Others found him handsome and intriguing and certainly worth _their_ consideration. And, Minfilia thought, that was only right because he was those things and more, in her opinion. She couldn’t imagine anyone not admiring him.

Except perhaps himself, she was coming to realize, as she learned more of the world, of people, of him. She wished she knew how to fix that.

So she said, “She must like you a lot, to save you.”

He looked down at her, and she couldn’t quite read his expression. “She saves everyone,” he replied. “Even people she’s never met, has never known. And if-- _when_ \--she comes here, she’ll agree to help Norvrandt and its people, too. Because that’s who she is, and what she does.” He shook his head. “Regardless of what she herself wants, too often.”

Minfilia considered that as they continued on their way.

* * *

  
He let out a frustrated sigh. Minfilia looked up from her own book. He leaned back in his chair, head tilted toward the ceiling, rubbing his eyes as he sprawled. A chronometer ticked on a nearby shelf, and somewhere else in the house a pixie giggled--an ominous sign if there ever was one.

“Not the right book?” She asked carefully. He had been in a snappish mood lately.

“I honestly don’t know. It’s written in the most obtuse manner possible,” he replied, head still on the backrest as he looked up at the rafters, hands folded on his stomach. “I’m going cross-eyed trying to make sense of some long-dead mage’s ramblings, and can’t help but feel I’m just wasting my time.”

“Should I look?”

“No; enjoy your own book. Perhaps one of us shall learn something, at least.”

She was at the end of a chapter, and while she did want to know what happened next, she could recognize one of his moods coming on and felt she had best try to diffuse it. “Could Aeryn make sense of it?” She asked, trying to sound off-handed.

He “humphed” but a glance showed him smiling. “Probably. She’s always liked research, particularly into new magical theory. She studied it for years, before finally learning how to cast herself.”

“She’s a mage? Like Urianger?”

“Yes, and no. She’s studied arcanima with Urianger and our other colleagues, certainly. But she’s also learned other magics, rare and powerful. And she learns quickly--both magic and martial skills. Perhaps because she’s already learned the fundamentals through other disciplines, but...show her something new, and she catches on faster than anyone I know.” He chuckled. “It can be infuriating, when she masters in moons what it’s taken yourself years to learn--but it also makes sparring with her, or fighting alongside her, all the more interesting. You never know what trick she’s going to use next.”

“No wonder she wins so much,” Minfilia replied.

He turned his eyes to her, head not moving. “Aye, that’s perhaps some of it; her varied knowledge and blending of styles and techniques. But she’s also just that good. She never stops trying, never gives in to defeat. When things are at their worst, she works with others to find a new way, and her quiet determination is relentless, and infectious. When things are at their best...well, she’s not one to rest on her laurels. Always looking for some new challenge, something new to learn.”

He absently gestured to the book. “She would enjoy this challenge; translate this old fellow’s ramblings and excitedly go on about it as if it were the most interesting read she’s had in weeks, and somehow make it sound simple to understand.”

“Maybe she’ll be here soon, and you can ask her,” Minfilia said. “Urianger says the Exarch’s going to try something new to bring her to Norvrandt.”

“We shall see,” he said, a slight crack in his voice. She recognized it now; it was common, when he talked about Aeryn, thought about her coming to the First. It was hope and fear and worry and eagerness all wrapped together, while trying not to show how much emotion he felt. Minfilia wasn’t sure why he always tried so hard to hide how much he cared; he was open enough about other things he felt, like when he was cross with her.

He continued leaning back in the chair, eyes closed. He might be falling asleep and if so, that was a good thing; Minfilia still didn’t think he got enough. She said nothing as she slid out of her own seat, taking her book to continue reading outside so he could rest.

* * *

  
The festival was simple, as most were these days, but it was nice to see people relaxing, laughing, just being happy for a moment. The ribbons strung along the buildings and over the streets were a riot of color.

He had said they were almost like real rainbows after a storm; Minfilia took his word for it, having only read of such things, or glimpsed glamoured refractions in Il Mheg. But they must have been pretty, if they looked anything like this.

Someone was playing a lute, singing a familiar old song to make people clap and laugh. Even he was humming along, she realized. It sounded nice.

“You should join the singing,” she suggested while adjusting her hat, covering her gold hair and shading her distinctive eyes from casual onlookers. She had only heard him sing a very few times, and had always liked it.

He shook his head. “It’s been too long since I’ve performed for a crowd,” he replied. “I used to be something of a bard, telling stories, singing songs...”

“Charming ladies?” she asked. At his peering, she shrugged. “Something Urianger said.”

He grumbled about having a talk with his old friend. They stopped at one of the street vendors--really just a housewife with refreshments set out on her stoop--and he handed Minfilia a cup of fruity pudding while buying himself an ale. They wandered further up the street, finding a tree with a bench at its base, sitting and watching a group of youths play an energetic ball game for onlookers’ amusement.

“I used to sing with Aeryn, actually, for our friends’ entertainment,” he mused. “She’s trained as a true bard. Always a surprise for someone, when that normally quiet woman would suddenly raise her lovely voice. We matched rather well.” He paused, frowning slightly with that familiar faraway look. “Hasn’t been quite the same since. Singing without her, I mean.”

“If she’s coming soon, will you sing with her then?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. I think we’ll all be rather busy.”

The ball game ended, more instruments joining the lute, and the square instead began to fill with people dancing, separately or together, at various levels of competency and enthusiasm. She noticed he was watching them, smiling in that reminiscent way again.

“Does she like dancing, too?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied quickly. “I would try to get her to as often as possible--at first, I’ll admit, as an excuse to have her close. But then because she was...safe, and an excellent partner. She’s graceful and surefooted--so long as she’s not thinking of who all is watching.” He sighed. “We haven’t danced in a long time, actually. Even before I came here, there was just so much happening and we were separated so often. It was all we could do to find half a moment to even be in the same room by the time the Exarch’s Call pulled me here.”

Minfilia looked from him to the square of happy villagers. “I wish I knew how to dance. It looks fun.”

He peered at her. “Not something they taught you, I suppose?”

She shook her head. He finished his ale and stood, offering her a hand. “Well then. No better time to learn.”

Minfilia’s eyes widened. She set aside her empty pudding cup and took his hand. “I don’t think I’ll be so good a partner as Aeryn”

“It’s like anything else one must learn,” he answered as they joined the villagers. “But I know she’ll be pleased you’re so eager to try new things.”

That made her smile, though she was less concerned about making this long-awaited champion happy as she was seeing _him_ so relaxed and smiling and willing to teach her something so important to him as well.

* * *

  
Minfilia knew right away, as she looked up at her rescuers. She already knew Captain Lyna from the Crystarium. There were two elven youths that she did not recognize. And then there was _her_. The hume woman seemed bright, somehow, against the backdrop of the new blue sky. Her fine-spun midnight hair was braided away from her face, as she wielded both sword and magic against the Eulmoran soldiers, scattering them off the landing. The storm in her grey eyes softened, and they sparkled like the stars as she knelt next to the girl and undid the bindings.

“You’re Aeryn,” Minfilia said as they stood. “Thancred’s told me all about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on January 26, 2020)


	17. Rak'tika Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mid-Shadowbringers: After defeating the Lightwarden of the Rak'tika Greatwood, the Warrior of Darkness seems troubled. NSFW for sexual content (cis man and cis woman, briefly near end).

“Art thou listening, or art thou too busy staring lasciviously at our comrade?” Urianger asked dryly.

“I am listening,” Thancred replied as he leaned on a wall of wood and sod. “But I am not ‘staring lasciviously’ at Aeryn.”

“No? Hrm. Mayhap it is the heat of the morning causing thy flush, then.”

Thancred glared. Urianger only smirked in response. Honestly, the man had gotten downright cheeky since coming to the First. Urianger’s smile faded, however, and his pitch lowered. “I know thy reunion hath not been all thee hoped, given circumstances. Hast thou had other opportunities to speak with the lady?”

“That isn’t your business,” Thancred replied coolly. “You and Y’shtola have already been after me enough regarding Minfilia; leave Aeryn out of this.” He glanced over to her, helping water the Night’s Blessed crops with Minfilia, the both of them temporarily dressed like the locals--Aeryn still in red, Minfilia in white. “She has enough to worry about; I don’t need to add to her concerns.”

Urianger shook his head. “Concerns, nay. Comfort? That, perhaps, our friend could use in these uncertain times. Lest thou forget, her Blessing is also a burden, and much is asked of her. ‘Tis a lonely thing to be a Warrior of Light and Darkness, I think.”

“She has spoken with you, then?”

“Of some things,” Urianger admitted. “But there are matters she will only speak of with thee, as thou well know.”

Thancred sighed. “We shall see. We aren’t staying here with the Night’s Blessed long; only until Y’shtola has gathered what she needs--and our gear is finished being cleaned and repaired.”

That they had not been able to convince Runar to let go; while Y’shtola had declined a feast, knowing how thin the Blessed’s stores were, the people of Slitherbough had insisted on helping mend and clean the Scions’ accoutrements after the harrowing days spent among Ronkan ruins and the sticky, corrosive poison of the Lightwarden.

It gave Thancred time to check on the town’s defenses and make suggestions. He wanted to keep these people, so dear to Y’shtola, as safe as they could manage before taking their leave. Even if he was stuck wearing one of the Blessed’s clothes in the meanwhile; his armor and coat had taken the brunt of the Lightwarden’s attacks. Unlike Urianger, Thancred had forgone a vest, wearing only the airy skirt. It was a welcome change after spending time in the humid swamps and forests in his full battle gear.

A few youths ran over to the garden where Minfilia and Aeryn were talking to an elven woman. Thancred watched as Aeryn made encouraging gestures, before Minfilia ran off with the other adolescents to the side cavern where they took lessons. Aeryn smiled as she watched, her eyes tracking across the commons, catching his own. She began to stride over to where he and Urianger stood.

“I believe I shall inquire how much longer Y’shtola intends to take. She hath taken up her master’s habit of keeping many a tome--and never putting them back in their place,” Urianger said, tone disapproving, but Thancred didn’t have to look up to catch the smile on his friend’s face once again. Urianger was certainly one to talk of never putting his books away.

“Very well, Urianger,” Thancred sighed, shaking his head. He raised a hand in greeting as Aeryn walked up, exchanging nods with Urianger as he left. “Hello, Aeryn. I see Minfilia was abducted by the local children. Nothing you could do to prevent it, I take it?” He crossed his arms. Belatedly, he hoped it didn’t look like he was blocking his own bared chest from view.

Aeryn grinned and shook her head. “The storyteller has new paints, apparently, for the children to paint murals of scenes from various tales. The other youths were kind enough to ask if she wanted to join them while we wait.” She looked off toward the schoolroom hollow. “It’s good for her to spend time with others her own age. Even the twins can act too much like adults at times, though I know they get along well.”

He nodded. “I agree. I’m afraid we haven’t had many opportunities for her to make friends. Though I fear they have deprived you of your apprentice.”

She blinked and tilted her head in that silent questioning way she had. It had long ago shifted from frustrating to endearing, and he was still realizing how much he had missed that quizzical look since arriving in the First years before her.

“In finding every little chore and duty in the vicinity and taking it upon yourself to complete it,” he continued with a small, teasing smile.

Aeryn raised her palms and shook her head. “Oh no; I don’t have to teach her anything about that, she’s already eager to please and wanting to feel useful.” Her expression grew more serious for a moment and she looked away. “She struggles with that; thinks she’s a burden.” Her grey eyes flicked toward him through her bangs.

Thancred frowned and looked away again. “She’s young and inexperienced, but learns quickly enough--when she chooses to. Like most adolescents.”

“Perhaps she ought to be told how well she does, instead of scolded when she makes a reasonable error.”

“Sneaking off and getting captured by Eulmoran soldiers is not ‘reasonable’,” he answered tersely. “And the rest of you are quite eager to praise her.”

“It's not _our_ approval she looks for.”

He frowned. “So you came over here to criticize me?” _Again_ , the memory of their argument in his Crystarium apartment still sharp.

Aeryn scowled. “No.” She began to turn away, then sighed, shoulders attempting to loosen. She looked at him again. “I caught you staring, and thought there was something you wanted.”

He said nothing for a moment. “...My apologies. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Never said you did,” she answered, not asking for clarification. She cleared her throat. “Though I did wonder if I had something on my face, or if this outfit wasn’t fitting properly. I was thinking of keeping it.” She looked down, turning enough to make the skirt swish, and he was certain she knew _exactly_ what she was doing. The borrowed Night’s Blessed skirt was long and flowing, but that vest--if one could call it that--showed off quite a bit of skin, while hiding just enough to be...distracting.

“It fits _very_ well,” he assured her. “Urianger was perhaps admonishing me for admiring just _how well_ it fits.”

A blush lit up her cheeks, all the way across her ears, and he smirked. It was still easy to make her redden--but then, it should be, since so much less time had passed for her. “There’s the charmer I remember,” she muttered. “At least one of you is a gentleman.”

“Ha!” Thancred answered. “I am convinced he simply hides it better.”

Aeryn laughed lightly. “I’m sure. And while he is going to speak to Y’shtola, what are you up to?”

“I was helping shore up defenses and speaking with the scouts, but it seems all is as ready as it can be, should the Eulmorans or the Children return. Luckily, the viis are more willing to assist the Blessed now, which should be a deterrent. And yourself, now that the crops are cared for and Minfilia off with her new friends?”

Aeryn considered, then looked past him to the massive tree roots twisting against the hill behind the town. “I...was thinking of going to spend a moment at a spring one of the viis hunters showed me. We got there by jacular, but I realized it was near enough to Slitherbough that it was perhaps climbable from this side. I wanted to see if I could reach it, before we left.” She turned back to Thancred. “You’re welcome to join my little expedition.”

There was a sudden bit of static in the air, like the sense of an oncoming storm, though the newly natural day was a cloudless blue above the canopy. 

“If one’s exploring and climbing in these woods, ‘tis safer to have a partner,” Thancred answered.

She nodded in agreement, and headed for the wall of branches and roots that sprung from the cliffside. Thancred watched a moment--the vest looked good from the back, too--before pushing off the wall he had been leaning on to follow her.

It took them the better part of an hour to find the right path. Much of it was walkable, and only a little climbing was required to boost past a wall of tangled limbs and forest growth to get onto the plateau Aeryn recognized. The spring, when they finally reached it, was a welcome sight.

It was small but ran clear, and was mostly hidden by the hills it nestled between and the tree branches it was shaded by. Thancred swept his eyes around the area and listened, but there seemed to be no threats. “If there is anyone here, ‘tis like to be a viis hunter, who shall probably leave rather than confront two humes,” he remarked. He knelt by the pool and looked up. “Keep an eye out.” Then he dunked his head and shoulders under the water.

It was cool and refreshing, and quite clean. Thancred flung his head up again, laughing as Aeryn squeaked in surprise, suddenly doused. “Needed to cool off after that climb!” He explained, turning to sit. He shucked off the sandals to let his feet soak in the water, up to his knees.

“Could just go swimming,” she said, sitting next to him and doing the same.

“We would have to take off our skirts, and truth be told, I’m wearing naught under mine.”

That got another blush as she looked away. “Well. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“In the Source, mayhap,” he pointed out. “Here is a different matter.”

She side-eyed him. “You’re going to claim you’re shy now, is that it?”

He smirked and gave her a shrug. “I’m just saying you’re going to have to try harder than that, my dear.”

“Ha! Though I do notice…” Aeryn hesitated briefly, then reached over, her fingers brushing a pair of marks running along his side, earned in a battle last year with a beast. He barely suppressed the shivery reaction to feeling her touch again. “Your scars are different,” she said. “You’re missing a few, while having gained more.”

“These forms are constructs of how we see ourselves, in part,” he replied, watching her. “Y’shtola and Urianger seem to me much as they appear back in the Source.”

“While you look as you did before Dravania.”

“I suppose that says something about my mindset and how I visualize myself.”

“Not to mention your vanity.”

“Hey now,” he poked her shoulder as she laughed. “Are you complaining?”

She caught his hand and leaned closer. “No,” she said. Her eyes fixed briefly on his lips, then met his eyes. Hers were dark and tinged blue, like a cloudy evening promising later storms. He found himself leaning in as well, resting his forehead against hers.

“This isn’t like you.”

He felt her brow crinkle in a frown. “How do you mean?”

“You decided but a short time ago that we needed to take our time to relearn one another.”

She didn’t answer right away, looking down. “Maybe I’ve learned all I needed to.”

“Aeryn,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “What’s the matter?”

She was quiet for a long moment, and he could feel her trembling.

“Was it something Y’shtola said? You two spoke briefly when we returned.”

“Do you...remember when we arrived in Rak’tika? How she...didn’t recognize me?”

“Our first impression of the Night’s Blessed was a lasting one,” he admitted. “And yes, I remember. ‘Tis still strange that she should mistake your aether for--.”

_Gods, how could I have been so blind?_

She hugged herself and looked away, breaking their tentative connection. “She doesn’t think the Wardens’ aether is dissipating, or being spent when the sky clears. She thinks...that I may be absorbing it.”

“But you can hold it,” he said. It sounded more like a question.

“For now. But I keep thinking about what Lyna told us when we defended Holminster, about how their aether corrupts and overtakes whoever is nearest. I keep thinking about what happened to Titania, when they defended Il Mheg. And Alisaie’s friend Tesleen…” Aeryn shuddered. “I’ve had nightmares, since watching her turn.”

“That won’t happen to you,” Thancred said. “You have the Blessing--but more than that, you’re the strongest person I know, in more ways than one. If something is happening with this aether, we’ll figure it out--that’s what we do.”

Was he trying to convince her, or himself? He didn’t want to think too much about that.

She gave him a wan smile. “I know, I do, I just...I feel fine now, nothing seems different, and yet...I trust Y’shtola’s sight. I’m afraid of what she sees.”

“Be quite foolish otherwise, to my mind,” he replied quietly. “But for now, you’re very much you. Just a bit brighter to those with sight, perhaps.” He thought for a moment. “Still; probably best not to say anything to the others just yet. No need to worry the twins, or Minfilia. Urianger though---”

“He knows. I overheard them arguing about it, before the Eulmorans attacked,” she answered. “Well. Y’shtola was _trying_ to argue, but Urianger was being...himself.”

Thancred chuckled. “Our loquacious friend can be quite taciturn when the mood strikes him--or when he has good reason. Yet despite how guilty he can feel about his schemes, I trust him with my life.” _But with Aeryn’s?_ He pushed the thought aside for now. “Urianger either doesn’t know and wishes to gather more data first, or he _does_ know, but doesn’t want to frighten you or anyone else, and shall play his cards close until the time is right. And between him and Y’shtola...There’s naught to fear, I think.”

“Then why am I so afraid?” She whispered. This was not something she would admit to just anyone, he knew. She was too aware of who and what she was meant to be for others.

“May I?” He asked. At her nod, he drew her into a closer embrace. She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding him tightly, her touch familiar and intoxicating against his skin. “It’s natural,” he said, rubbing her back. “It’s a frightening warning. But we’ll get through it, somehow. We always do.”

He felt a little nod against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, and held her for awhile longer, enjoying having her close to him again, the familiar scents of her viola hairpin and the particular tang of her sweat, the rhythm of her pulse, the little sounds and breaths and just everything _Aeryn_ , after so long…

“I wanted to stay after all that night, despite our fighting” she whispered suddenly. “Or for you to ask me to stay anyway.”

“Darling, I’m not a mind reader,” he murmured into her hair. “I can only go by what you tell me out loud.” _I wanted you to stay, too, but how could I say that..._

“I know.” She lifted her head. There were still distant storms in her eyes, and the rain had already begun to fall from them. “Kiss me?”

He probably ought to say no; she was looking to hide from her fears and worries, wanting a distraction and so had sought him out, as she sometimes had in the past. Physical exertion was how Aeryn initially dealt with raw emotions and nervous energy; a fight, hard labor, vigorous exercise, and sometimes…

Thancred leaned in and kissed each of her eyelids, then her tear-dampened cheeks, and then carefully, gently, her lips. 

It was warm and comfortable and familiar and he couldn’t help draw in a breath, _her_ breath. She responded with a small, wanting noise, and despite himself the kiss intensified from the soft touch he had meant it to be, her tongue darting between his lips and _gods be good_...

Thancred drew back. “Say stop,” he said, hating his own sense of responsibility. “And we shall continue as we have, for now.”

She took a long moment to reply. Finally she looked at him through hooded eyes, a cool hand resting on his shoulder. “No; don’t stop. Please, I…”

The words unraveled his attempt at control. He pulled her tight against him as they fell into another heated kiss. Her vest was skewed as hands and mouths touched, explored, relearned one another. Water splashed against his calves as their skirts were hiked up, and then she was straddling his lap, back arching as she took him in.

Five years of waiting, of longing, of resisting every temptation—and gods help him, there had been some serious temptations—and now finally, _finally_ he had her in his arms again; tasting her, feeling her, watching her lose herself in the pleasure he could give. It was almost too much at once, and holding himself back took every mote of will. As much as he had yearned for her, waited for her— _she_ needed this now. Needed _him_.

It was a heady realization, making him moan her name against her neck. He felt more than heard her whispered response of his own name, muffled in his hair.

Their coupling was neither rushed nor languid; not rough, but not quite gentle, either. She gripped him tighter than he recalled her ever doing, keeping him close even after she shuddered and whimpered through her release, as quiet as always. He called her name again as he met his own climax, noting how she still clung, her trembling not entirely post-coital.

“You’re still you,” he murmured afterwards, running his hands through her hair, down her back. “That hasn’t changed. Will not change.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, temporarily content.

They simply held each other for a time, until a bird’s call startled him from the comfortable doze he had been about to fall into. “We must clean up and return to town,” he said, reluctant as he was to move. “You are still using your tonic…?” 

She nodded as she slid off him, adjusting her vest. “If nothing else, avoiding my cycle is too useful when adventuring.”

“Makes sense. I have no idea if this form can even...Well. We’re not sure about quite a few details, and I’d rather not find out.”

“You seemed certain enough some things worked.” It was an attempt at teasing, at least.

Thancred shrugged and smirked. “Some things are easier to test than others, and I have two working hands and an _excellent_ imagination.”

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes, grinning back. They finished cleaning up, straightening their clothes and reclaiming their sandals. As they began to make their way back to Slitherbough, Aeryn paused. “Thancred...I know...it’s not…” She paused. “Not exactly what either of us wanted, I think, for…”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps not,” he replied. “But it was needed. And I am ever happy to oblige.” He smiled and squeezed her shoulder gently. “This need not change anything--if you still need time, by all means.” She looked at him, blinking, but he felt some of her tension ease, and he was happy to see her smile gratefully. “On the other hand, I wouldn’t say no should you ask me to meet you in your room at the Pendants later. Or if you came to mine. But...there’s much yet to do, and we the ones to do it all.”

_And still many ways I have changed that I see your ambivalence about_ , he dared not say aloud.

Aeryn nodded. He let his hand drop. “Now, shall we return to the others?” He said. “Lead the way, my lady.”

He watched her walk ahead on the path, a little constriction of fear for her in his chest, should Y’shtola’s concerns prove founded. He could only imagine the turmoil Aeryn herself felt, causing her to seek him out this way. He might have to speak more with his old friend in private--assuming he could avoid more of her caustic comments toward himself. Then again, Y’shtola wasn’t likely to tell him much, and there was honestly little a magicless bodyguard could do in this circumstance.

Not much else, anyway, but be there for Aeryn, however she needed--like he had been today. On the one hand, he hoped it took time before she needed such relief again. On the other, he had very much meant that offer, now that he had been thoroughly reminded of what he had been missing for five long years.

Gods, they couldn’t complete this adventure quickly enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published to Tumblr on June 7, 2020)


	18. Market Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late Shadowbringers: After defeating the Lightwarden of Amh Araeng, Thancred has an unwelcome shopping encounter with even less welcome advice.

The Crystarium markets were bustling, the tension in the air still noticeable but less urgent than before their trip to Amh Araeng. Another Lightwarden defeated, and the young Oracle coming into her own power, had lifted the mood in the days since the attack on Lakeland.

Ryne was describing one other minor miracle to Thancred as they browsed the apothecary’s wares, waiting on his new order of sundrops to be ready. He and Aeryn had used quite a few in the mines. “And you say she went to her rest _willingly_?” He peered at Ryne.

The girl nodded. “After a bit of joking with Y’shtola.” She frowned. “Aeryn was very tired and distracted. Y’shtola even thought so.” Ryne looked ready to say more, then shook her head. “A lot happened.”

“I’ll say,” Thancred replied. He would have to wheedle more information from her later, when they weren’t in the midst of the markets; whatever Ryne was reluctant to share likely wasn’t for the public’s listening ears. “Perhaps Aeryn’s finally learned how to responsibly take her rest when she can.” He took the package of sundrops from Philline and dropped a few extra gil in her palm.

“She would be the only one,” Ryne’s tone was dry, and a glance down showed she was giving him a Look.

“No idea what you mean,” he replied blithely, grinning at the roll of her new, naturally grey eyes. He was finding himself quickly getting used to them.

“Ah, here you are,” a new voice said.

Thancred looked up and nodded a greeting to Cyella. “Good evening. Looking for us?”

The barmaid tilted her head toward Ryne. “The twins were looking for you, actually. Alisaie has _ideas_ and Alphinaud, as ever, needs a hand keeping her out of too much trouble.”

Ryne laughed. “I’d best go meet them, then, before they get into it without me.” She took a step forward before halting, glancing up at Thancred. “That is--”

He waved her off. “Go on. Just don’t call me if Alisaie’s restlessness gets you all thrown in Lyna’s stockades.” He waited a beat. “Call Urianger.”

Ryne giggled and dashed off, her long red hair a bright banner waving with each step. Thancred had found that he liked that better, too.

Cyella also smiled after the girl. “That’s my good deed for the day. I think,” she said. “I’ve my own shopping to do before our busiest shift at the Stair. Have a good evening, Thancred.”

He watched the elf walk away. He was always left with a vaguely unsettled feeling, like there was something familiar about her that he couldn’t quite place. Mayhap she had a doppelganger on the Source. Were that the case, he hoped he had not--

“There is something about that woman that isn’t quite right, isn’t there?” another unfortunately familiar voice said from behind him.

Thancred grit his teeth and turned, not bothering to hide his irritation from Emet-Selch. “What are you doing here?”

The Ascian pouted and spread his arms. “Shopping. Why else does one come to a market?”

“You. Shopping.”

“Mortal bodies have requirements,” Emet-Selch replied. “Inconvenient, but necessary. Unlike some of my colleagues, I try not to neglect them.”

The memory hung in the air unspoken. It hadn’t been combat with the Warrior of Light that had inflicted the most physical harm on Thancred’s body after its use by Lahabrea--it had been the Ascian’s tendency to forgo sleep or food for much longer than was safe. He pushed that recollection aside. “Well, good luck finding whatever it is Ascians purchase at market,” Thancred snarked. He turned to make his way across the Musica Universalis toward his apartment.

He stifled a growl when he realized Emet-Selch was now walking with him. “I overheard you and the young Oracle,” Emet-Selch said as if they were in the midst of a friendly conversation. “Our vaunted champion feeling under the weather?”

“She’s fine,” Thancred replied shortly. “Defeating a Lightwarden is tiring work.” He quickened his step. Unfortunately, Emet-Selch’s long-limbed Garlean form easily kept pace.

“Mm-Hm,” the Ascian finally answered as they reached the yards of the Quadrivium. Even that simple a sound seemed fraught with ominous meaning. “Yet the rest of you go about your business as usual. Then again, none of you are absorbing all that aether.”

Thancred paused and looked up, quietly admitted concerns teasing the back of his mind. “What are you saying?”

Emet-Selch shrugged. “Just taking note. Seems to me a worthy one to make, that even she has her limits after all.”

Thancred tried to unclench his fists; they were dangerously close to swinging. “You’d like to think so, I’m sure. But push her, as your kind are wont to do, and you’ll find that she has the strength to go beyond them, to rid the world of those that threaten it.”

“Yes, always the reckless one, wasn’t she?” Emet-Selch muttered. Before Thancred could reply, the Ascian sighed. “There you go once again, accusing us of instigating a fight your Crystal started. Her champion’s status is, as you can imagine, a matter of great interest, particularly as I watch you all scurry about your misguided tasks.”

Thancred took a step closer, knowing he shouldn’t do that. “Aeryn’s ‘status’ is no concern of yours.”

Emet-Selch’s expression went from vaguely amused to suddenly serious as he met Thancred’s gaze with a steady patience. “But it _is_ a concern of yours--even more so than the others.”

Thancred narrowed his eyes, refusing to look away from Emet-Selch’s, despite the unfathomable cold in those stolen golden depths. “And what is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t even try to hide his exasperation. There was no point.

“I’ve been watching for some time now,” Emet-Selch pointed out. “Your group’s interpersonal dynamics are, for the most part, dreadfully common and boring, but a few significant things are noticeable.”

“Bah,” Thancred scoffed, stepping away and turning his back on Emet-Selch. “I haven’t time for more of your insults as to our mortal nature.” If he didn’t walk off now, he might end up hitting the ancient being. That would not likely end well.

“You’re in love with her.”

Thancred froze. He did not reply, nor turn back around.

“I can’t exactly blame you. I’m sure you’re not the only one, either--who wouldn’t desire such a luminous creature?” There was a sarcastic chuckle. “But there are not many, I think, who have gained _her_ affections in return.”

Thancred did turn now, at least partially. Emet-Selch could probably hear the hammering of his heart in his chest, particularly as the Ascian said those last words.

The ancient was looking toward the Pendants with a faraway, melancholy look to his face Thancred had not expected. “My honest advice?” Emet-Selch said quietly, with none of his usual thinly-veiled contempt. “ _Don’t_.” He turned to look at Thancred again, his expression clouding into unreadable. “Don’t try to win her--you’ll only lose, in the end. Naught shall ever matter more than her duty, and her Mother’s Will. Even at the cost of all else she holds dear.”

“She isn’t tempered,” Thancred managed to say. The words sounded uncertain even to his own ears.

The Ascian gave one of his expansive shrugs. “Just a friendly warning.” Emet-Selch turned away.

“Speaking from experience then?” Thancred snapped. A terrible thought occurred to him. “Or your own desires?”

“Not for _her_ ,” Emet-Selch snarled in reply, and Thancred almost stepped back at the venomous sound. The Ascian’s shoulders dropped into his customary slouch before Emet-Selch began to walk away, making one of those ridiculous hand waves. “I have what I wanted, and said what I wished. Take it as you will.”

In a swirl of shadow, he was gone.

Thancred remained rooted in place for a few moments longer, replaying the conversation in his mind, wondering what, exactly, the Ascian had wanted. Confirmation of the strain Aeryn was under with each new Warden slain? He couldn’t really be that interested in their personal affairs--could he?

Thancred rubbed his eyes and let out a long breath. Trying to figure out an Ascian’s mental gymnastics took all one’s focus on a good day, and Thancred hadn’t had one of those in a long while. There was always something.

Perhaps he ought to swing by Aeryn’s rooms, see that she was all right, warn her of the Ascian’s prying. Perhaps attempt that conversation they’d been avoiding since meeting again on the First.

His feet turned to his own apartment instead. That conversation could wait for a better time, when she wasn’t exhausted and he irritated by their trespassing Ascian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on January 15, 2020)


	19. When the Time Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late Shadowbringers: As the Scions search through the Tempest, Aeryn extracts a promise from Thancred.

“For all her fear of heights, a spout of water that tosses her back to the top is apparently great fun,” Thancred noted as he and Aeryn watched Ryne negotiate her way down the cliffside path.

“There are similar spouts in the Ruby Sea,” Aeryn said. “And it _is_ fun.”

“I shall take your word for it,” he replied. Ryne was perhaps halfway down the path now, her white dress visible even in the dim light. “Perhaps, when all this is over and we’re back in the Source, you can show me the wonders of the Ruby Sea.” He tried to sound casual about it, as if it were a foregone conclusion.

“You just want the Kojin’s Blessing,” Aeryn replied. “Been jealous since our swim in the Lochs.”

He grinned. “Can you blame me? It _would_ be useful.”

She tried to tease him again but just then her vision cracked, white light overwhelming, everything glowing and swimming in the air before her. The pressure bore down, threatening to shatter the paper-thin veneer that was her skin to allow all the Light out.

It was a struggle to breathe, but she had to; just get through it, like all the other times, ignore the rising panic that this might be it this time she couldn’t--

There was a familiar pressure, warm and solid and grounding, in her hand. Another on her shoulder, giving her something to lean on. A voice--Thancred’s voice--saying something she couldn’t quite make out through the ringing in her ears, but it was familiar and calming. She focused on trying to hear him.

“--That’s it, just breathe. There’s naught to fear, Ryne’s wards are holding,” he was saying in a steady, calm tone that the Echo whispered was a lie. He was saying it as much for himself as for her. “I’m right here, Aeryn. Just breathe.”

She squeezed his hand, paying attention to the details past all the Light. The backs of his gloves were armored, but the leather on the palms was soft and supple. The leather only extended to the first knuckle of each finger, leaving them free for finer work. Her own gloves were fingerless as well, and so she traced his scars and calluses, taking comfort in this small bit of skin to skin contact as she pushed back the Light, letting it fade into only a background glare instead of overwhelming her senses entirely.

Aeryn took a few shaky breaths. The cavern seemed brighter than it should with a halo effect around everything, but it was manageable. As was the pain, back to a constant dull ache that only stabbed if she moved too quickly.

“Better?” He asked after a long moment. The ringing was mostly gone, low enough she could hear again, at least.

Aeryn nodded, not quite trusting her tongue yet.

“We’d best catch up to the others, and pray their scouting has borne fruit.” He looked around. “Ryne! We have to go!” He called. The girl called back a response; that was still difficult to hear.

“Thancred?”

“I’m right here.” He squeezed Aeryn’s hand.

She held onto his hand fiercely, the only anchor she had. “If--If this gets worse...If I can’t hold on--”

“Don’t--” He started to say, but she shook her head.

“Get everyone as far from me as possible,” she said. “Lock me away if you can, anything, just--keep everyone else safe. Please.”

“It won’t come to that,” he said in a quiet, desperate voice.

“It might,” she said bluntly, looking at him finally. He grimaced, and she wondered if she had lost more color from her hair, eyes, and skin. “So promise: If we fail, if the worst happens, you’ll leave me to keep the rest of them safe from whatever I become. Promise me.”

Thancred closed his eyes to give himself a moment to think.

' _Keep_ her _safe_ ,' Aeryn thought, glancing at the girl running across the damp silt of the cavern floor to meet them. ' _I’m not sure even the Oracle can hold all this Light; I don’t want to find out--I don’t want her to end up like all those Minfilias…_ '

Thancred opened his eyes, the same resigned determination in them as that awful night on Baelsar’s Wall, answering Papalymo’s final request. “I promise,” he said thickly.

“Thank you,” she replied.

His free hand brushed across her cheek. “But it shan’t come to that. We’ll find a way.” He didn’t believe it--he was too much a pragmatist--but he very much wanted to.

Aeryn only nodded as she squeezed his hand again. A heartbeat later he squeezed back. Ryne finally rejoined them, slowing as she approached, looking back and forth.

“Is everything all right? Aeryn, are you--?”

Aeryn smiled. “I’m fine.” _For now_. That part need not be said out loud.

Ryne studied her for a moment, and then nodded. “I saw Urianger and the twins go down a tunnel this way,” she said, pointing. “I think Y’shtola already went ahead.”

“Then we had best join them, lest she get angry at us for lollygagging,” Thancred said. He gave Aeryn’s hand a gentle tug. She fell in step alongside him as they made to rejoin the others.

If Ryne and the others gave surprised or relieved smiles as they rejoined the group, Aeryn ignored them. Hells, even Ardbert was smirking off in her hazy peripheral vision. There was no point in playing professional or in trying to pretend there was nothing between her and Thancred; the time for such games were long past, and everyone knew by now, anyway. Even Alphinaud.

Aeryn was simply grateful for the continued anchor of Thancred’s hand in hers as they crossed the murky depths of the Tempest, seeking their quarry. She was thankful for his quiet support at her side.

Until the time came for him to leave her behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a writing challenge response to Tumblr on March 15 2020)


	20. Tomorrow, Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early Shadowbringers patches: During a break from investigating the Empty, Aeryn convinces Thancred to stay in for the night. A rewrite/continuation of "[Tomorrow]()" from _Striking Fate_ with the smutty second half added from Tumblr. NSFW for sexual content (cis man and cis woman).

Thancred’s gear was spread over one end of the table in Aeryn’s room, and he frowned at the state of it. Mostly general wear and tear, but the battle with those creatures in Eden’s innards had been rougher on them than he had thought.

He spread a towel over the tabletop and set to stripping down the gunblade for repairs and cleaning, carefully placing each part in specific order. Somewhere behind him, Aeryn was rummaging in her overfull closet. Her own weapons had been left on the bench near the door, he noted. “Were you going to put away your gear?” He asked.

“They’ll keep ‘til tomorrow,” she replied, poking her head out from behind a wardrobe door.

Thancred grunted a response and reached for his toolkit, but frowned as he caught sight of a tear in his cartridge belt and picked that up instead. It was not a small tear, either, and it was frankly a miracle that the belt hadn’t given out at a bad time. “I’m going to have to drop by the Mean and get this repaired,” he grumbled.

“That can wait until tomorrow,” Aeryn said as she crossed the room, barefoot from the sound of it.

He set the belt back on the table. He supposed she was right, though if he hurried he could still get to the proper Facet today. He reached again for the toolkit, but Aeryn snagged it first. “I need that—” Thancred began. He finally registered that she was wearing a rather airy little night dress, straps leaving her arms and shoulders bare, the skirt brushing only mid-thigh. “...Ah.”

She was blushing already, but still managed a grin as she wiggled the case. “You were saying you need this?”

He leaned back in the chair, hands raised in defeat. “...Tomorrow,” he answered.

She set it down--out of reach, he noted--and straddled his lap, running her fingers through his hair. “Thought you’d say that.”

Thancred wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re not usually such a forward minx,” he teased.

She shrugged, even as her blush deepend. “There are some who thought you were working a little too hard during our last trip to the Empty.”

“That so? Promised to see that I relax, did you?”

“Not in so many words, but that’s the idea.”

“If anyone worked too hard and needs to relax after all that—”

“Thought you’d be happy to volunteer,” Aeryn said, leaning close.

“I suppose we’re not going out again, nor is anyone expecting us until—”

“Tomorrow,” she whispered as he pulled her in for a kiss.

The kiss began soft and gentle, a comforting connection as they embraced. Thancred ran his hands over Aeryn’s back; the nightdress left her shoulder blades bare, and she shivered a little as his fingers trailed along her spine. He drew her closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips.

She rocked her hips slightly, perhaps teasing, but it was enough to make him growl in anticipation. His other hand slid down and under that short skirt to grip her rear, and he was delighted to realize there was naught underneath but her soft skin. Her hands slipped from his hair to his chest, bunching his shirt in her fingers. Aeryn pulled from the kiss, her eyes dark. “This needs to come off.”

“I am getting a bit warm,” Thancred answered, raising his arms as she pulled the fabric up and over his head before throwing it aside. When she leaned in again, it was his neck she went for, lips brushing over his jawline and pressing over a tattoo, sucking on the skin there as he arched back for her. “Gods,” he breathed.

Her lips curled into a smile against his neck as her nails gently ran down his chest. She stroked his sides, making him fight the urge to squirm when she teased the ticklish spots under his ribs before continuing down to ghost along his stomach just above his pants. Dexterous fingers unhooked his belt. “This has to go too,” she murmured in his ear, before giving it a gentle nibble.

“Please,” he agreed, digging his own fingers into her back again while she unbuttoned his pants. He lifted his hips and she pushed the heavy fabric down, leaving his smalls. He removed a hand from her long enough to help push his pants down, shaking them off his legs. “That’s better but--Ohh…”

She grinned and kissed him again as she ground against his erection, the thin cloth of his smalls the only thing between them. He could feel her wet desire through the fabric, making him moan into her mouth. Thancred rocked his hips up to meet her, relishing the feel of them moving together, finding a pleasant, torturous rhythm. Aeryn taking charge and riding him this way was uncommon enough to drive him to distraction every time, and by the gods if she wasn’t drawing this out.

It may have been quickly or after several minutes--time was difficult to gauge through the haze of sensation--her fingers curled, nails digging into his shoulders, and he felt her tension building just from the motion and pressure. Her forehead leaned against his as she took a shuddery breath. “Thancred,” she whimpered.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered desperately, hips thrusting in response to her every shift and motion. He wanted more--to feel her, not the rasp of damp cloth, and he trembled from restraining himself.

“You--ah!” she gasped as she shuddered, a bloom of wet heat against his groin. He laughed breathlessly, cupping her face and kissing her over and over. Despite her reticent nature, once she gave in to her body’s lusts, she could be made to come so easily, so quickly--and tended to underestimate her own reactions, the darling.

Aeryn leaned against him, laughing a little at herself as well. “A nice start, I suppose.”

“Struck me as a finish,” he teased. “Though if you want more…”

She gripped his hair and kissed him fiercely. He sucked in her breath and tightened his embrace, crushing her to him. Aeryn abruptly pulled away, his lower lip briefly caught by her teeth. “Fuck me,” she breathed.

“As you command,” he replied. Thancred reached over, flipping back the edge of the towel the carefully placed parts of his gunblade rested on, the metal clinking as they were swept back and jumbled together on the other side of the table under the towel; a problem for tomorrow.

Aeryn clung to him as he tensed, then swiftly stood and turned to deposit her on the edge of the table. He grasped the hem of that airy little nightgown and pulled it up and off, then took a moment to look at her.

A light sheen of sweat made her tan skin shine, a few strands of black hair clinging to her cheeks and neck. Her pupils were wide and round, her grey irises almost as dark but sparking with anticipation. Her lips were swollen and hanging half open and he had to kiss them again, a hand on her hip while the other braced himself on the table.

It briefly, inanely occurred to him that they had never used a table before now.

Aeryn’s fingers hooked in the waistband of his smalls to push the damned things down finally, and Thancred shimmied a bit to help gravity take them the rest of the way, kicking them aside with his pants. She reached for him but he caught her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as he leaned down to catch a breast in his mouth. She dropped her head back and let out a little moan.

“Please,” she whimpered. “I want…”

“You shall have me,” he promised, moving to her other breast, taking that taunt nipple with teeth and tongue. He slid his length along her slick folds, reveling in the sensation and the little noises she made. Always so quiet, his dear Aeryn.

He trailed his lips along her collarbone, across her shoulder, up her neck, all the while teasing her--and himself, as if he wasn’t aching enough. “You shall have me,” he repeated in a rumbling whisper in her ear, delighting in her shiver as he reached the right timbre. He murmured filthy descriptions of how he was going to fuck her until a whine keened past her lips and he really couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

“Yes,” she hissed as he pressed himself into her, lifting her pelvis toward him. He moaned as she engulfed him, hot silk clenching around his shaft and he had to take a deep, steadying breath to not spill the moment he was hilted.

She suddenly giggled, and that was a lovely sensation. “What?” He asked, grinning himself as he nibbled at her jawline.

“I just...tried to seduce you, but here you’re turning it around on me.”

“Oh you definitely succeeded,” he said. “But if you’d rather change things about…” He pulled back, withdrawing almost completely.

Her legs clamped around his waist and her hand gripped his. “Don’t you dare,” she scolded. “Not when you’re finally where I want you.”

He murred against her neck. “Then I do believe the request was…” And he thrust hard, hilting himself again in a sudden motion that had her gasping.

“Fuck,” she breathed.

“That’s...the idea,” he groaned, setting a hard rhythm that had the table creaking beneath them. Her nails dug into his shoulder, her heels pressed against his buttocks, hands clenched together as they rocked in tandem, their thighs slapping wetly, the heady scents of sweat and lust filling the air.

He could feel her tension spooling, her hips occasionally bucking out of sync as it built. She whimpered his name, then swore, and he couldn’t help a grin. The reserved, refined, innocent-seeming woman oft seen in public, completely undone and breathing out curses as she took him again and again and again…

Thancred moaned. “Come, Aeryn,” he urged in that low growl she liked. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. “I want to hear you.”

That, and another rolling thrust, seemed to do the trick. “Thancr--ah!” another swallowed, breathy cry as she arced, her walls clenching around him. He held himself still deep in her, riding out the sensation, the sting of her nails raking and digging into his shoulder. He returned to his rhythm as she began to come down, little shivers and shocks still pulsing through her.

“Lovely,” he crooned, kissing her hungrily as his own resolve finally gave way. He shouted against her mouth when his release came, his vision blanking, the feel of her wrapped around him his only anchor to the physical plane for a long, blissful moment.

He was next aware of her wriggling against him and letting out a long, content sigh. “We should go to bed,” she said.

But,” he replied, wetting his lips and clearing his throat. “It’s barely seven.”

Aeryn’s whisper was rough in his ear. “And we’re not finished yet.”

His eyebrows raised. “That so, my dear?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well then.” He fell out of her, stepping back and helping her off the table with only a little wobbling. “After you, darling.” He gave her rear a playful slap as she passed, grinning at her squeak of surprise. She laughed over her shoulder at him, and he would swear that look was more seductive than the most experienced courtesans.

Thancred eagerly followed her to the bed. The night was young, and his lady wanted for attention. He intended to spend the rest of the evening giving her all she wished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Previous drafts were first published as prompt responses to Tumblr on May 8 and May 10 2020)


	21. Unsupervised, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime in Shadowbringers early patches: Aeryn gets distracted, gets in trouble for it, and can only recall her [friend's silly response](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686814/chapters/60146842) as a defense.

“Ah, you’re back,” Thancred said as Aeryn came in the door, carrying a suspicious number of bags, considering the errand she had been on.

She stopped as the door clicked shut behind her, blinking for a moment.

Thancred raised a brow. “….You _do_ have the cylinder I need for my gunblade, yes?”

Aeryn opened her mouth, closed it, looked at her packages, and then looked up again, face turning pink. “I…maybe...forgot to stop by the forge…”

“Forgot,” he said flatly. He eyed the bags in her hands. “So what are those?”

“Um. Well…” She fidgeted like a child caught stealing a snack. If he wasn’t so irritated it would be adorable. “I got…distracted.”

“Distracted,” he repeated, crossing his arms. “Aeryn, I rather need that part, the internal cylinder on my blade is _cracked_.”

She gestured helplessly as she dropped the bags on the table. Clothes. The bags held clothes, some of them suspiciously similar to pieces he knew she already owned, if slightly different in color and cut and _Nald have mercy_.

Thancred rubbed his eyes. “Do you have _anything_ to say in your defense?” Please let this be a prank and she hadn’t forgotten; gods knew they were under a lot of stress lately but _honestly_ …

“In my defense?” She thought for a moment. Then her lips twitched, her blush deepened, and she squeaked in an unsuccessful attempt to stave off giggling uncontrollably.

Thancred stared. “…Aeryn?”

“In my defense…” More laughter, before finally. “The moon was full and I was left unsupervised!”

There was something rather important he was missing here, he was certain, though Thancred was determined to not give in to the infectious quality of her amusement. For one thing, he rather seriously needed that part to fix his weapon. For another, he had no _idea_ what inside joke had her doubled over.

“Right, _you_ put away your ill-gotten gains, and _I_ shall hurry to the Mean and pick up the part myself. As I should have to begin with apparently.”

Aeryn coughed, trying to end her paroxysms. “I’ll come with you, this is my fault.”

“You really don’t have to, and perhaps it would be best to get those giggles under control.”

“No, I want to, it’s fine, honest, I’m fine,” she said, wiping her eyes and straightening her jacket.

He glowered at her for a long moment but finally nodded.

She was _not_ fine, the little liar, as she held onto his arm for support while continuing to giggle most of the way across the Crystarium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A previous draft was first published as a prompt response to Tumblr on June 22 2020. Shares a prompt/theme with "Unsupervised" in the _Slices of Light_ fic thread)


	22. Of Porxies and Pardons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime in ShB patches 5.0-5.3; Thancred and Aeryn had a major fight post-Refulgence (Eden 8), but luckily Ryne and Gaia are around to bully Dadcred into doing what he's been putting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something of a followup to “Return to Dreams of Ice“, my version of how E8 Refulgence happened. The argument itself is yet unwritten.  
> —

“Oh my goodness!” Ryne squealed. “It’s _adorable_!”

Thancred turned to see just what had her exclaiming at ear-piercing volumes. He had the distinct sense that he was already doomed regardless. Still: “What have you found now, Ryne?”

“Isn’t it a perfect representation of a porxie?” She said, oblivious to the resignation clouding his features. “I almost thought it was an actual porxie at first but it’s obviously hand stitched, oh I just know—”

“Don’t say it—” he tried to get out.

“--Aeryn would love this!” Ryne exclaimed. “We should surprise her with it!”

Thancred pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, yes she would,” he agreed. “But given how things stand, I don’t know that—”

“Oh there you are,” Gaia called as she walked up, affecting a bored look on her face but her quickened step belied her intent. “I thought I heard ear-shattering screeching. What did you find?” She gave Thancred a wave almost as a dismissive afterthought while she addressed Ryne.

“Gaia, look at this adorable stuffed porxie! I was thinking Aeryn would like it; she collects cute stuffed toys like this.”

“Does she?” Gaia headtilted at the pink plush. It really was wonderfully made. “I’ve not seen such things in her room in the Pendants.”

“Back in the Source,” Ryne clarified. “I know she’s picked up a couple toys here, and I think she’s taken them back with her when she goes to check in with the other Scions.”

“Huh. Well then if she doesn’t have a porxie already, this seems like a good one to give her.” Gaia’s gaze turned to Thancred.

“Why look at me? It’s Ryne’s idea.”

“You’re still fighting, right?” Gaia asked with her usual bluntness. “It might be a good peace offering.”

Ryne nodded. “You know, I was thinking the same thing and was just about to say so.”

Thancred crossed his arms and scowled. “We are _not_ discussing this. Aeryn’s and my arguing—”

“Is very much our business given it has to do with what happened with Shiva,” Gaia said, mimicking his stance; consciously or not, he wasn’t sure. “And it upsets Ryne that you two are still fighting, so you ought to fix it.”

He glared at Gaia but she did not back down. It was one of her more admirable and annoying qualities. “Certain things are more complicated than can be fixed by a stuffed porxie.”

“But it’ll get you talking again?” Ryne was now giving him That Look and between her lip-wibbling and Gaia’s glowering there was no way he could hold out much longer. If only Urianger were about to distract them, maybe one or both of the twins…

Unfortunately, a quick sweep of the market revealed no handy allies in sight.

“I...Yes, probably,” Thancred conceded. “But that’s even assuming she wants to talk with me. I...may...have been...harsh.” He inwardly winced at himself for the equivocation. There was no “may” about what he had said.

“Mm, pretty sure she’s willing to listen,” Gaia said while glancing at Ryne, who nodded. Thancred narrowed his eyes; there was a feeling of conspiracy in the air, but getting young women to admit to the depths of it could be nigh impossible, especially in this circumstance. “Besides, this porxie really is disgustingly cute, and if you don’t buy it someone else will quickly enough,” Gaia continued.

“Oh and then Aeryn might find out it was here but gone before she even saw it,” Ryne sighed. “And who knows if or when they’ll have another one!”

Now Thancred rubbed his forehead; they were not letting up. “All right. If it makes you two happy, I’ll buy the damned porxie.”

“And give it to Aeryn?” Gaia asked, a brow raised.

He glared at her again, but the girl just smirked back. “I’ll not hear the end of it if I don’t, is that it?”

They both nodded, Ryne looking innocently eager and Gaia looking smugly satisfied.

Thancred grumbled, counting out gil for the far-too-amused shopkeeper, who had been professionally pretending not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Not as if half the Crystarium didn’t somehow know that Thancred and Aeryn were arguing; the gossip in this city was faster and more widespread than any other he had lived in. Or maybe it seemed that way because the Scions were so publicly known while the population was far smaller than the cities of the Source. On that note, it would be nice to go to the Wandering Stairs and not get scowled at by Aeryn’s bounty hunter friends. He wasn’t sure what she had told them, but given how that dwarf drank it wouldn’t surprise Thancred if they had drawn it out of her with enough libations.

“Thank you,” he growled to the shopkeeper, who cheerily thanked him in return for his custom while handing over the plushy porxie. “Happy now?” He asked the girls, gesturing with the toy in one hand.

“You’re not at the Pendants yet,” Gaia pointed out.

Ryne nodded. “We've got more of our own shopping to do, so you can go on ahead. Unless you really want to watch us test different lipsticks and rouges…”

“I’ll pass,” Thancred replied. They would quibble for bells over various shades that looked nearly identical until settling on their initial choices after all. And then have him carry all their purchases while they dashed off to the next shop. Not that he actually minded; he enjoyed seeing them carefree and happy for an afternoon, between work and training and saving the world. Spending a day following the girls around and carrying their bags for them while they had fun together was a far sight better than any of his stealth missions.

He wasn’t ever going to tell them that; they’d take advantage in a heartbeat.

“You girls have fun, and don’t forget to meet Urianger for dinner and to check in with your studies. If nothing else it’ll get him and the Exarch out of the lab for a bit.”

“We won’t forget!” Ryne promised, grabbing Gaia’s hand and practically pulling her along as they dashed off, throwing goodbyes and waves over their shoulders. How Gaia managed to not lose her balance in those heels she favored was ever an impressive feat.

Maybe he should tell them after all that he didn’t mind tagging along, to spend as much time together as they could before...

Thancred tucked the porxie under his arm and made his way to the Pendants.

The man at the front desk kept his benign customer service face on when assuring Thancred that yes, the Warrior of Darkness had retired to her quarters recently. Thancred nodded in thanks and made his way to her apartment, grimacing. He had a copy of her key, and had hoped he could leave the porxie and a note before retreating to his own rooms to prepare for the coming conversation. He briefly considered a stake out, waiting for her to leave to do just that, or simply dropping off the little present for her to find...but that could take hours, or until the next day, if she was already inside.

He took a deep breath as he stood at her door. They had both been making the effort to be more communicative, so there was only one thing left for it. He knocked. “Aeryn? It’s me.”

Thancred counted to forty-seven before the door handle turned; she’d taken time to think about it, then. Or perhaps he had caught her in an awkward moment, but more likely the former. He thought to tuck the porxie behind his back before the door opened fully.

She had to have washed her hair earlier; her fine black locks were loose and looked freshly soft. She wore a simple wrapped tunic dress that left her arms bare, the skirt coming to her knees; she really must have meant to stay in the rest of the day. Her eyes flicked over him briefly; for an afternoon shopping in the Crystarium he wasn’t wearing his armor, just a simple shirt and trousers and a low pair of boots. He watched her relax slightly, realizing he wasn’t calling on her for a sudden adventure as she stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter before he could even ask.

“Pardon my intrusion,” he said, offering a smile that felt too tight as the door closed again. “The girls picked this up in the market for you earlier but had other errands to run, and so tasked me with its delivery.” He pulled the porxie plushy from behind his back. Aeryn’s face lit up, and his own smile loosened in the process. “Quite understandably, they thought of you when they saw it.”

“Oh this is adorable,” she exclaimed, taking the toy and giving it a thorough examination. “So soft, too; I’ll definitely have to add this to my collection.”

“You mean the pile overrunning your reading loft in the Rising Stones?” He asked dryly.

She threw him an abashed look over her shoulder as she placed the porxie on a side table alongside some other items she must have had earmarked for return to the Source. He felt the familiar homesick ache at the sight, the knowledge she would leave and be gone for a few weeks—for her only a few days, the time difference was still a bit off—back home at the Rising Stones, in Eorzea, with the rest of their friends.

“They’re not _entirely_ overrunning the loft,” she countered. “I moved some to my room in Ul’dah.”

That apartment was even more whimsical, decorated in light colors and a carbuncle theme. “I see, so they’ll be overrunning your friends’ building before long,” he tried to tease.

She pouted. “As if Dark Autumn would let it come to that,” Aeryn said. “Still, I think this little guy will fit in just fine. Thank you for bringing it; I’ll have to thank the girls when I see them.”

He nodded. Then struggled not to fidget as silence briefly took over, the orchestrion quietly playing a semi-familiar melancholy tune. They tried to speak at the same time, words crashing against each other until they both stopped and blinked, the usual blush creeping over Aeryn’s face, while his own felt rather warmer than a moment ago. He gestured; she could go first.

She hesitated anyway, then quickly said, “You left that book you were reading, before...Um, before. It’s there.” Aeryn pointed to the small couch by the window, the aforementioned tome on the stand next to it. It was a collection of Voeburtite poems borrowed from the Cabinet of Curiosity he had meant to take along to the Empty to read while his more magically-inclined companions went about their tasks.

“Ah, of course; I was looking for that,” he answered, striding to the stand. On lifting the book, the marker he had left between its pages slipped out. Thancred managed to catch it, but his place was lost. He sat on the couch. “A moment while I find where I left off,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied, clearing her throat. He waited a moment, but she turned instead to her table and the organizing she had been doing when he arrived. She was definitely preparing to leave again for a time.

He took a breath but instead of speaking up turned to the book in his hands, slowly paging through to find where the verses became unfamiliar again, listening to Aeryn in the background. It didn’t take long before skimming became rereading, the words of long-dead poets filling his eyes and mind.

> _“And so the wind falls light upon the meadows_   
>  _The shepherds call and their charges answer_   
>  _Gathering in their bower as cold replaces day_   
>  _Waters still, the Mirror resembling its namesake_   
>  _I leave your flowers on their stalks, blooms closing_   
>  _While the sun slips behind the mountain_   
>  _When it rises again the wind shall blow_   
>  _The waters shall ripple as the day warms_   
>  _And your flowers will show their faces_   
>  _As you never will again.”_

Aeryn listened as he read. “Rather morbid,” she said after a moment. “But also hopeful, somehow.”

“There are several like it; apparently the writer has a series dedicated to a lost sibling, her way of working through her grief.”

She handed him a glass of water and sat on the other end of the small couch, which was still very near; closer in fact than they had been since…

Well, since the night before they had summoned Shiva.

“Read more?” Aeryn asked, carefully.

He could close the book, make excuses about letting her get back to her preparations and retreat to his own apartment to let this fester until after she returned. But that was untenable, and they both knew it. So he nodded instead, turning the page to find the next poem and reading from there as she drew up her knees and listened.

Over a bell and dozens of pages later Thancred was starting to feel the effects of reading aloud and stopped, finishing the glass of water. While listening, Aeryn had moved closer until she was against his side, his right arm draped around her at some point.

She rested her head on his shoulder as he also set the book down, then pulled her the rest of the way onto his lap and breathed in her freshly cleaned, vaguely floral scent.

“You’re still angry,” she said after a long moment of listening to his heartbeat.

Thancred could lie, but she would know; the perils of her sensitive Echo. “A little,” he conceded. “At myself as much as anyone, however.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, fingers curling in his shirt. “I should have said no, shouldn’t have ever let it happen—”

“Nor should I,” he said. “I could have put my foot down and refused to allow either of you to risk yourselves in such a way. But,” he sighed. “What’s done is done, and Ryne none the worse for wear. There’s almost a part of me that thinks it may have even been a good lesson.”

Aeryn lifted her head to look at him, frowning. “How could _any_ of that have possibly been for good?”

“Well, besides the obvious effect on the Empty,” Thancred began. “It was dangerous, and reckless, and she lost control--and you were able to bring her back from that, with Gaia’s help. Too often young adventurers don’t have any sort of safety net when rushing into things--and we may not be there the next time they try anything so dangerous. But after talking with them, I think they’ll both consider that, and take time to think things through first.”

Aeryn pondered that a moment, making a non-committal thoughtful hum. “Maybe so. I still wish we’d done things differently.”

“So do I.” He shrugged. “But we can’t change it now.” He hesitated, then lifted his left hand to cup her face. “And I don’t want you leaving without me saying...I’m sorry.” The words were difficult to push past his teeth, but once released, he was glad of it.

She frowned even as she leaned into his hand, his thumb brushing lazy circles on her cheek. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, you tried to stop us from all of that—”

“For what I said,” he interrupted. “Afterwards.”

She looked down, eyes clouding. “I deserved it.”

His turn to frown now, his hand dropping away. “No, you didn’t. I’m supposed to have your back, and instead in my anger I hurt you. That should never have happened.” Thancred took a moment to gather up the nerve for the next words, wetting his lips and taking a breath, but it had to be asked: “Forgive me?”

His skin felt clammy and sweaty at the same time, his heart thudding. Why in the seven hells was that so hard, the brief wait for her answer so much harder?

“Of course I do,” she said, in that surprised way she had of realizing she had come to a conclusion long before she knew it. “I’m just hoping _you_ can forgive _me_ for everything—”

“Aeryn,” he said gently, interrupting again only to derail her nervous rambling before it truly began. “You’re currently in my lap,” he pointed out.

Her brows drew together for a moment, then she shook her head. “That only means you like having me in your lap,” she replied.

Dammit. She wasn’t wrong, but that was part of the problem. Thancred took a breath, his left hand reaching up to tangle in her long hair, pulling her close until their foreheads touched. “I forgive you,” he whispered hoarsely. “And I’m sorry.”

A pressure lifted from his chest, one he hadn’t even realized was there. Some of the remaining anger went with it; what was left was a little more than the usual amount he typically reserved for himself.

But hearing her held breath let out, feeling the tension leave her frame, seeing her lips curve into a relieved smile--well, that made all this worth it. Would that he hadn’t let it come to this to begin with, but he would take this...whatever it was.

Her lips brushed tentatively across his, and he pulled her close for a more definitive kiss to share their relief, curled together on the small couch. His right leg was falling asleep, but he pretended not to mind while rubbing his hand up and down her back as they spoke for a long while; haltingly at first, as they worked out the aftermath of their argument and what had happened with Eden and Shiva, easing into something almost resembling normal conversation as they progressed, finally, into a sort of catching up on the days since.

On reflection it hadn’t been that long, and yet also seemed forever. It always did after a fight, but this time had been the worst. Because it had been Ryne, because they had both erred so gravely with her safety, and with each other’s trust--Aeryn in Eden, Thancred afterwards.

But here they were regardless, on this couch in her room, his leg achingly asleep and now so was she and he couldn’t possibly disturb her. He shifted as much as he dared, trying to find a position even slightly more comfortable that kept her in his arms.

And the lights were still on; well, that was fine, Thancred thought, looking across the room. The porxie caught his eye, sitting proudly among the other items Aeryn meant to take back to the Source. It really was a well-made little toy; except for the fearful little whisper in his heart that didn’t want to leave Ryne, Thancred hoped he had the chance to see that porxie again, among all the other ridiculously cute plushies inhabiting the cozy reading loft of Aeryn’s room in the Rising Stones.

Perhaps the girls had had the right of it after all, he thought, looking again at the sleeping woman curled up with him, before leaning his head back to let his thoughts drift off and soon join her in comfortable slumber.

Thancred definitely wasn’t going to tell them that; he’d never hear the end of it.


	23. Indecent Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadowbringers post-5.3: Thancred gets bored and challenges Aeryn's sense of public propriety. NSFW for sexual language.

The ceremony was lengthy, the lists and speeches interminable, and Aeryn struggled to not doze off. She shifted in her seat as the sermon continued.

Thancred dropped his arm from the back of her chair to her shoulder. “Sleepy?” He pitched his voice so only she could hear.

“Mm-hm,” she replied, then whispered, “How’re you staying awake?”

She realized it had been a mistake to ask when a wicked grin curled up his lips. “Well,” he murmured. “I’ve been thinking about all the carnal things we’re going to do when we’re alone later.”

Her eyes widened and the heat bloomed on her cheeks. “ _Thancred_ ,” she hissed, sitting up straighter.

“What?” he asked, amused. “Woke you up, didn’t it?”

“The worst,” Aeryn muttered fondly while he snickered.

She counted up to two minutes before he leaned close. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though…”

“Thought you already were?”

“Your jacket will have to come off.”

“It tends to when retiring for the night—”

“So I can put my hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place when I bend you over the nearest table.” The hand on her shoulder slid over until his fingertips were brushing the nape of her neck under her hair and collar.

Aeryn sucked in a breath, heat flaring once more...and not just in her face, godsdamn him. “This isn’t appropriate,” she whispered, eyes darting to check if anyone else had heard as she adjusted her seat again to cross her legs.

But the Warrior of Light and her companion were in the Fortemps box, high in the rear of the small auditorium, the other Scions having found reasons for their absence, including Alphinaud; not even their resident diplomat wanted to sit through another Ishgardian ceremony as a favor to their highborn friends. The heads of the elezens in the seats in front of them were barely visible, and heavy drapes separated the other noble boxes, forcing one to lean forward to glimpse other High House attendees—she had waved to the disgruntled-looking Stephanivien de Hailenarte earlier, presence no doubt forced as he always preferred to be in the Manufactory.

They were as alone as they could be in such a public venue.

“No, I suppose not,” Thancred agreed, sounding far too amused and looking completely at ease as he leaned back in his seat. His fingertips continued to tease her neck.

She counted another minute while the priest droned on before Thancred’s fingernails ever so gently pressed into her nape while he whispered, “Nor would it be appropriate to mention how much I wish to push up that skirt to sate my curiosity; full tights, or stockings? If the latter, are you wearing garters?”

“I’m not telling you,” she hissed, highly aware of his hold on her neck. She tried to pay attention to the priest once more, but her pulse was growing louder in her own ears and prevented any comprehension.

“I’m hoping for stockings,” Thancred mused. “Then they can stay on as I run my hand up your thighs until I find the hems of your smalls.”

Aeryn bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to squirm. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction yet.

“I shall run my fingers where fabric meets skin,” he said, speaking in the rumbling purr she enjoyed him using in the bedroom which was not helping. His fingertips still massaged her neck. “Until I hear that delightful little whimper you make when about to beg of me.”

She was certain her face was on fire now.

He leaned close. “Only then, darling, will I test to see just how wet you’ve gotten,” Thancred’s whisper was a thunderous growl in her ear.

Aeryn’s boot hit the floor more heavily than she intended. She tried to look casual as she recrossed her legs and swallowed. She was not telling him how heated she was getting now.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he continued, lips brushing her earlobe. “If I’m going to remove your pantalettes entirely, or pull them just far enough aside to ravish you with my hand.”

She could practically feel his smirk as she gripped the armrests and tried to focus on the priest expounding at the podium. The man’s name escaped her at the moment.

Thancred made a long, thoughtful “hmm” noise; that was utterly unfair. “I suppose it won’t matter when I’m stroking you until you come for the first time for me.”

“We are in a _church_ ,” she hissed, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing between her thighs. While Aeryn didn’t believe in the gods anymore, she knew he did—if he had the shame to behave.

“And?” he asked. “Only men have such hangups, not the gods themselves. Especially if one’s studied them and what they get up to, and just why certain places are considered sacred.” The casual brushing of his fingertips over her neck still was not helping. “If I could I’d have you right here, as Thaliak did Azeyma in what became one of their holiest temples.”

“You are making that up,” she said, voice hoarse.

“I’ll show you the texts,” Thancred replied. “Perhaps after having you over the table. I think slowly to start with,” he added idly. “Just to feel you, tight and warm around me, savoring you over and over, building the pace and intensity until you come for me again.”

The auditorium burst into polite applause, startling her and drawing attention to the stage. The small squad of knights being honored for their deeds on the Gyr Abanian battlefields stepped up to receive their awards and promotions.

Aeryn took the opportunity to breathe, clapping as well. “Remind me not to ask how you handle boredom again,” she muttered, attempting to sound grumpy and knowing she was failing.

Thancred chuckled as he joined the polite applause, her neck regretfully free of his touch now. “Kept us awake through that sermon, didn’t it?”

“You’re just hoping I jump you as soon as we return to my room,” she accused in a whisper that didn’t sound as disgruntled as she wished.

“I would definitely count that as a bonus,” he replied. “I have to admit that I wonder what it would take to get you to ‘jump me’ before we reach privacy.”

“Not happening,” Aeryn retorted, attempting to refocus on the stage as the priests and officers went over each knight’s deeds.

“Are you sure?” Thancred asked, that dangerously amused tone returning. “You’re so quiet, it wouldn’t be difficult to find an alcove in a side hallway, perhaps an unused confessional, and press you against the wall, lifting your skirt and legs.” His hand now rested over hers upon the armrest, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her wrist.

She tried to affect a scowl while continuing to watch the stage. Soon enough, Thancred rumbled a thoughtful “Hmm.” She watched him from the corner of her eyes.

“But if the goal is to get you to initiate, then perhaps you’d prefer to pull me into a dark side room or corner and make me lean on a wall while you get on your knees. I would muss that lovely hairstyle you’re wearing, though.”

Aeryn took a deep breath before she could respond. “I can hardly manage _that_ properly in private, you’ll be sorely disappointed if I try in public. Which I won’t,” she hastily added, seeing his grin.

“Practice makes perfect, darling, and you have been improving,” he assured her, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, it would give me cause to reciprocate. That’s what you really enjoy, isn’t it? Me on my knees instead, scribing you poems directly until you’re shaking?”

The imagery was in her mind now, damn him, remembering keenly the last time he had spoken a poem between her legs; his tongue and fingers had left her on the edge of bliss for the better part of an hour before finally tipping her over.

“Of course, then I might actually have to cover your mouth, as you almost make noise when I extol your virtues upon your virtue.”

She eye-rolled at that. In part to cover the little thrill up her spine when he spoke of keeping her quiet. She might have to examine that in more detail later.

“I believe in that case I would bring you close, then wrap your legs ‘round my waist and fuck you against the wall until we’ve both had our pleasure.”

Aeryn bit her lip. His precise deployment of profanity had caused another heated surge low in her belly.

“ _Then_ we’ll retire to your room, and _then_ I’ll bend you over the table for more.”

“Think so?” Thank goodness, she managed not to squeak.

“Assuming you’re amenable, of course,” he whispered, giving her hand another squeeze. The ceremony was nearly over.

“I suppose you’ll have to see. When we’re in private.”

He chuckled again, and she did her best to pretend to ignore him in favor of what was happening on stage.

The end of the service and the following hour mingling in the hall removed most of the scandalous conversation from her mind. Aeryn and Thancred wove through the crowd, greeting old friends, smiling and nodding as they were introduced to various people, and otherwise engaged with the upper crust of Ishgardian society until Aeryn’s head spun.

Some baronet was standing far too close and acting far too familiar; she was ready to snap when Thancred stepped in, offering an arm. “Beg pardon, but they expect us at Fortemps Manor,” he said smoothly, smiling at the baronet though his eyes glinted with warning.

Aeryn tucked her arm in Thancred’s. “Of course. You must excuse us, ser.” She barely gave a nod before Thancred pulled her away. “Thank you,” she murmured as they wound through the press of people, hardly thinned despite the hour.

“We should have left a quarter bell ago,” he replied. “You were close to overwhelmed.”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “Not so long as you’re around to keep me steady. Or rescue me from obnoxious nobles.”

“More rescuing the nobles from you,” he replied dryly, smiling as she laughed. He guided her down a narrow stairwell, away from the main hall and exit of the cathedral. “We should be able to leave through a side door to avoid the crowds. But first…” He veered, pulling Aeryn through a door into a small storage chamber, rows of robes hanging along the walls, shelves and boxes of other vestments filling most of the room. Only a narrow space next to the door was free of clutter, and that was where Aeryn’s back pressed as Thancred initiated a passionate kiss.

The earlier conversation flared to the forefront of her mind. Her face—and other parts of her, dammit—heated again while he held her close, the kiss long and deep and oh so promising.

Eventually they pulled but ilms apart, Thancred letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned his forehead against hers. “I needed that.”

“You’re rather intent on this little fantasy of yours, aren’t you?” she murmured affectionately.

“I perhaps did work myself up, teasing you,” he responded, voice low. Beneath the amusement was a desire that made her breath catch.

Aeryn cleared her throat. “Well, that’s your own fault. We’d best be getting home…”

His hands ran up and down her arms. “You are so… _Coerthan_ tonight.”

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?” She arched her brows.

“Outwardly acting the prim and proper maid, while truly you want very much to be completely undone,” Thancred murmured in that delightful low bedroom voice as they kissed again, his hand on her hip pulling them together and now her heart was racing.

Aeryn pushed him away, holding a finger up as he affected a pout. “First, I am not, you’re being ridiculous—”

“Always, where you’re involved, but you _really_ are—”

“And second,” she continued, a touch exasperated. “We are _still_ in a _church_ and need to return to the manor.” He gave her an expectant look. She sighed. “Once there, I _may_ be persuaded to let you have your way with me.”

“May?” Thancred grinned.

Aeryn smiled oh-so-sweetly back. “Depends how cold the walk between here and there is.”

“I feel compelled to point out we have a perfectly warm room right here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“For an adventurer, you’re certainly lacking a sense of it.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes and gently shoved him aside, leaving the storeroom. Thancred laughed, catching up and reclaiming her arm. “Very well, my dear. Allow me to escort you, and I shall hope you are very cold and require warming once we are within the privacy of the manor.”

Her blush returned and she sighed again, though it turned into a bout of giggles as they left the cathedral.


	24. 15th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadowbringers 5.4: Aeryn returns to the First to retrieve something Thancred has left for her on this specific date.

Aeryn stepped through the mirror and into the familiar space of the Ocular, taking a moment to reorient herself after the rush of journeying between worlds. Once the vertigo had passed she left the Tower, the Crystarium guards greeting her as she crossed the Exedra. It took some questioning before she was finally pointed to where Ryne was currently; training with Captain Lyna just outside the city gates.

She simply watched for a time as Lyna tried to keep her distance while Ryne tried to close in. Aeryn did not announce herself, simply noting how Ryne’s bladework had improved, at least one new trick learned since the last time Aeryn had watched her fight.

“That is enough for now,” Lyna said as they reached a breakpoint in their dance. “And the Warrior of Darkness has waited long enough,” she continued with a wry smile in Aeryn’s direction.

Ryne started, then turned with a grin, hurrying over to give Aeryn a hug. “It’s good to see you! Oh sorry, I’m all sweaty…”

Aeryn laughed, brushing damp strands of hair from Ryne’s reddened face. It was still winter in Eorzea, but in Norvrandt spring was on the horizon and the morning was warm. “Not to worry. Hope you don’t mind the interruption.”

Lyna waved them off. “Go on; we can catch up later.”

Aeryn nodded, knowing the captain wanted word of her grandfather, and G’raha _had_ given Aeryn a small package to deliver, but that would wait until Lyna was off duty and had readied herself. There was an order to such things with the stoic woman.

Instead, Aeryn turned back to Ryne and smiled. Had she gotten taller? “I have a question, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Of course!” Ryne answered as they walked across the bridge into the city. “What is it you need?”

“I have a note from Thancred; he and Urianger are currently on a mission, but he left me instructions for tod--well. The day it is back on the Source.”

“I see. What are the instructions?”

“I’m to ask you about the black willow box he kept in his room here.”

Ryne paused, a little sharp breath escaping. “Ryne?” Aeryn asked.

“Sorry! It’s just I was under strict instruction never to open the box, though I have the key now, of course; I still didn’t dare. It’s where he kept,” she hesitated.

“Kept what?”

“I’ll show you; it’s a good thing--I think--that he wants you to see. Come on!” Ryne dashed toward her apartment as if she hadn’t just completed a long practice session with the captain of the guard. Aeryn picked up her own pace to follow along after.

It did not take long for them to reach the apartment Ryne used to share with Thancred. As the girl opened the door, Aeryn realized it was the first time she had returned to these rooms since the Scions’ departure from the First. It was much as she remembered, though lacking Thancred’s continued presence. Evidence of Gaia’s frequent visits were visible instead, from lipstick-stained coffee mugs at the sink to dark ribbons left on an end table to a book that did not seem to be to Ryne’s taste on a sofa cushion.

Ryne paused in front of the door that had led to Thancred’s small room. “I haven’t been in here since,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Gaia and Taynor sorted most of it, actually, so only a few personal things remain. I should probably move to a smaller suite to let someone else use the space…”

“Maybe you need a roommate,” Aeryn suggested. “Perhaps Gaia could stay with you."

Ryne reddened. “We’ve considered it, but I’m just…” She gave a helpless little laugh as she shrugged, looking up at Aeryn apologetically. “I’m just not quite ready, I think. It’s silly, but there’s a part of me that keeps hoping they’ll find a way--a _safe_ way--to return. Even just for a little while.”

Aeryn squeezed Ryne’s shoulder. “It’s not silly,” she said quietly. “And I keep hoping that, too. Fairly certain Y’shtola has it at the top of her projects list.”

Ryne laughed, truly this time. “She would!” She looked at the door again. “The box should be on the shelf above the writing desk,” she offered Aeryn a small key. “I’ll let you see for yourself.”

Aeryn nodded, taking the little key and entering the room.

It was familiar, yet unfamiliar. Always small, it had kept from being cramped mainly by virtue of Thancred’s own minimalist tendencies with his added reluctance of accumulating things on the First that he would have to leave behind in the end. Even so, the room felt barren, many necessities and items missing, given away to be used by others in need among the Crystarium’s residents; naught went to waste while still usable.

The bed was neatly made; her eyes lingered for a moment, recalling a handful of pleasant times curled up together in it. They had often met in her own chambers for privacy, especially when feeling the need for more than simple closeness. There was a bench under the shuttered window; he used to clean his gunblade there, storing materials and parts in a chest beneath the bench. Nothing remained but the seat.

The writing desk was really a tall square table, a stool for the chair, in a corner of the room. Two simple shelves hung on the wall above it, some of Thancred’s personal effects that remained neatly placed upon them. The black willow box was a simple but lovely piece of old Nabaath make. It was familiar only in that it was a part of the room, always upon the shelf above the desk, a background decoration.

She had to stretch a little to pull the small box down. She unlocked it, pondering what it could contain for one last moment before opening the lid to find out.

Neatly folded pages, Thancred’s familiar handwriting covering them, five different bundles marked by Vrandtic dates in Eorzean lettering. The earliest one was dated five--no, six years ago now, in the midst of Thancred’s first year in this world, just after the Vrandtic new year. The second bundle was dated a year later. Then the third, then a fourth. The final bundle broke the date pattern, written...She shivered. The dates would have been the time after they assaulted Mt Gulg and before seeking Emet-Selch and the Exarch in the Tempest, when she had lain in a Light-induced fever for days in between.

All of the letters, long and detailed, were addressed to her.

Aeryn carried the box to the window and opened the shutters, letting in the natural light of day. She sat at the bench, picked up the first letter, and began to read, brows already rising at the first line.

* * *

> My Dear Aeryn,
> 
> It’s been roughly half a year, to me, since I arrived in this world. We search for a means to send me back, but given the dangers, it’s difficult to say if we shall ever be successful. I hold onto hope, given we have made the impossible happen more than once—particularly when you are involved.
> 
> I know so much less time is passing for you, even as time is difficult to track beneath the eternal Light, but the people still mark the hours and days as best they can--perhaps better than we do in the Source, reliant as we are upon the sun and stars. So as the calendar year turns to a new page, I find myself confronted by reminders of you at every turn, my own mind noting the dates, as if counting down to your nameday in truth.
> 
> Violas grown in the Hortorium call to mind your favored hair decoration and your scents carried with it. The heather meadows and clear mountain springs of Il Mheg make me think of the taste of your magic. Treasure hunters in Mord Souq unearth duelist rapiers reminiscent of your combat style. The grey waters of a lake, shifting in color and tone under the burning sky, remind me of your eyes and ever-shifting moods.
> 
> I think of our new situation, how fragile it all still seems, our duties as Scions, the distance between Ala Mhigo and Doma keeping us apart more often than I liked. Especially after having denied my own interests for far longer than I care to admit.
> 
> I fear now, not knowing when I may return to your side--in whatever capacity--that I am forgetting important things, and I very much do not want to. So indulge me as I list your various qualities that I admire, to remind myself why I allowed myself to maintain my impossible infatuation for so long, even as you became one of my dearest friends...

* * *

Aeryn eyes widened as she turned to the next page, then quickly checked the several pages following; Thancred had indulged his bardic habits, writing in verse and engaging in wordplay. Even the most innocent descriptions and memories of moments together, professional and extremely personal, were laden with puns and innuendo--not entirely unexpected from him.

She was mostly through the verses, trying to parse every dedicated line, when a knock at the door startled her.

“Aeryn?” Gaia called. “Everything all right?”

She cleared her throat. “Fine; I’ve quite a bit of reading to do, though; I may need some water.”

The door opened, Gaia appearing with a tray already in hand. “Ryne thought you might--are you all right? You’re redder than I have ever seen, and that’s saying something.”

Aeryn pressed a hand to her warm cheeks. “I’m fine. Just...wasn’t expecting some of what I found so far.”

“Is that good or bad?” The girl asked, setting the tray on the nearby side table in easy reach. There was a small tea service and also ice water, bless them. 

“It’s...Better than good,” Aeryn replied. “I may be awhile, though.”

Gaia shrugged in her nonchalant, pretending-not-to-care way. “Doesn't matter to me, but I was going to drag Ryne out for a while, just so you know. You’ll be fine here by yourself--won’t you?” A little genuine care came through in the last two words, despite her attempts to seem otherwise.

Aeryn nodded.

“All right. Enjoy your reading, and we’ll see you later.” Gaia gave a little wave before leaving, quietly closing the door behind her.

Aeryn cleared her throat again, sipping the cup of minty green tea--bless those girls again--and set the first letter aside for now. She would get back to that later; alone in her own room, where she could bury her face in a pillow and shriek like a schoolgirl when overwhelmed by his words, godsdamn him. For now, the second bundle had her curious.

* * *

> My Dearest Aeryn,
> 
> I almost let the date slip by, I am ashamed to say. So much has happened in recent weeks...

* * *

She read through two pages of his recounting Minfilia’s story and the reincarnations that had followed, offering a small hope to Norvrandt; of Urianger and Y’shtola’s arrival, his anger at the spell’s failure and yet relief at seeing Urianger again; and their shift in focus upon learning of the Eighth Umbral Calamity.

* * *

> ...Urianger’s vision of the Calamity, of our deaths, is a sobering thought. The idea of _you_ fallen especially freezes my blood. I cannot bear the thought.
> 
> So I redoubled my efforts to rescue the girl bearing Minfilia’s name and appearance. She sleeps now on a cot in this Mord town as I write. She can’t be more than twelve or thirteen summers; a frail little thing with no skills aside from reading books thicker than she is, and asking innumerable questions. They taught her nothing, simply locked her in a windowless cell under the _waterline_. For at least ten years, that is all the child’s known. If the fate Urianger saw for us makes my blood freeze, her situation makes it boil again. Should I chance to meet Eulmore’s General--the man responsible for her “care”--I will let him know _exactly_ what I think.
> 
> Tomorrow Minfilia and I shall attempt to reach Nabaath Areng, the site of the Flood’s halting; the girl says she must go there, as if pulled. I have a hope I dare not voice yet. The Blessing of Light does work in such interesting ways.
> 
> But that is on the morrow; tonight, though a day late, I wished to write to you as I did last year. With the date in mind you have also been in my thoughts--when I’ve had a moment to think, at least--and I find myself recalling more and more often the little things. Simple things. Things I fear I may forget, having been here for years now, years without the way you tilt your head when you have a question. It initially annoyed me actually, you were so quiet but now, gods I would give much to be in your silence again, to see that quizzical look. Anything to see the little furrow between your brows when you’re thinking. When you prop your chin on your hands as you stare out a window, tea forgotten in your hand. How you unconsciously wriggle and make faces as you read, reacting to the pages, lips silently moving as you devour each word...

* * *

“Oh I do not,” Aeryn muttered--realizing in the same moment that she was doing that now. She sipped her tea and kept reading, noting _how_ he wrote, as much as what; the moments where he had scratched out words, or underlined others. The splots where the pen had sat on the page a moment longer than normal as he thought of what he wanted to admit to. The way the letters slanted in places where he was eager. There was no poetry this time, fewer puns and word play. He had written when tired and possibly injured, given the shakiness of some lettering.

There were places where he couldn’t remember clearly--what perfume had she worn on the day of a particular memory? Was she wearing her red coat, or a blue dress in another? He wasn’t certain.

The letter wrapped up several pages later.

* * *

> ...I must get some sleep, given the long trek across the Amber Hills awaiting. I don’t know what will happen when we arrive, but whatever it is, I’ll keep the girl safe. Taking care of her is the only thing I can do, lacking the skills of the Exarch and our colleagues. Particularly now that we have abandoned the idea of going home--yet. I still don’t know how I feel about that, having struggled to find a way back for so long now, but there must _be_ a home to return to. To save ourselves, we must save this realm. Forgive me; as much as I yearn to see you again, I wish for you to live far more. Despite everything, I still remain
> 
> Yours, Thancred.

* * *

Aeryn drew in a sharp breath; the previous letter’s signature had been much simpler, after all the floweriness of the verses. This simpler, newsy, reminiscent letter had such a different feel to it, so much changing for him in that year. Her eyes kept drifting to that closing.

It took a few moments before she was able to refold that bundle and open the next.

His next year in the First; this one another detailed description of events he survived, and quite a lot about Ryne, still only known as Minfilia at the time.

* * *

> ...I actually began this letter yesterday, as we rested in a small inn at the edge of the Greatwood. I thought of seeking out Y’shtola, but am unfamiliar with those dark and twisting paths, and was low on ammunition. Minfilia was exhausted, unable to fight or imbue cartridges, and I won’t risk her more than our constant travels already do.
> 
> It was she who reminded me that I had been writing, before she made me take my rest as well. I’ve never told her about these letters, but she’s a bright girl and I have told her of you. Sometimes it’s simply because she is curious about you, and the hope that you’ll come here and save yourself, as well as the rest of us. Many times though I don’t mean to say anything, but the stories simply come, like a slumbering spring awoken by new rains, bubbling up and overflowing the riverbanks.
> 
> It’s something about her, I suppose, that makes me remember, and so I must speak before the memories fade back into the dustier corridors of my mind. Perhaps an effect of her unique Blessing? Or perhaps simply her childish curiosity drawing it out of me.
> 
> There’s a selfish part of me that wants you to meet her. It would mean that you’re here, for one, but also I think you two would get along. She’s a good girl--with her moments of petulance and stubbornness, as many youths are wont, but she’s come such a long way already, has learned so quickly.
> 
> I fear influencing her. The choice she must make is so important, and it must be hers. You would be a much better role model; you inspire others to do what’s best simply by your presence. I’ve felt the lack of you more keenly this last year than ever before...

* * *

Aeryn read through, noting he wrote it more like a conversation she had yet to answer. Memories of their adventures and companionship were woven through the words more naturally as he spoke to her. She smiled as he spent a good chunk of the letter not even realizing how he had gushed about Ryne and all she had learned and how she had grown in that first year they spent together, as if he were trying to ensure Aeryn would love the child as much as he so obviously did--even if the foolish man hadn’t been able to _tell_ the girl so until it had almost been too late.

But then, that was Thancred; locking his thoughts and feelings behind stoicism, snark, and literally in a box on a shelf.

She traced her nail along the letters of his name--again signed _“Yours”_ \--before tucking that bundle away and picking up the fourth.

By this time the twins were somewhere in Norvrandt, though Thancred had no opportunity to see them as Eulmore’s hunters were ever close. He wrote to Aeryn of his frustration with how many Scions had come to the First but she was still so far away and still in so much danger, alongside the rest of the Source and this shard itself. If she couldn’t come to Norvrandt to break the Light’s hold over the realm then the girl would have to make her choice sooner rather than later--and perhaps face the same fate as all of her predecessors.

He admitted that he feared both of those outcomes. He seemed to have begun to cross out that line, but had stopped himself.

* * *

> ...A nasty part of me believes you will never receive these nameday letters. That these are simply my way of remembering yet another important woman in my life I will never see again. I try not to dwell on such thoughts, try to keep busy, but you know me. Perhaps better than anyone since our Minfilia. How I wish I could speak with you again; patrolling through Mor Dhona, lunch at Rowena’s cafe, stargazing on the roofs of Ala Mhigo, reading in the Waking Sands’ dusty library. Simply holding you until we fall asleep, those few, rare moments we had. You always made me say more than I ever meant to; you’ve a way of drawing me out despite myself—and failing that, of simply being there as a brilliant, warm presence.
> 
> There are places here I want to show you, things I want to share. Yet I fear your coming, what it will mean. What changes I’ve experienced. What we had was...comfortable, and felt right, after so long, and yet it was still so new and fragile. I used to be confident in my ability to be delicate, but these last few years with this girl have made me feel boorish and clumsy. And I know I have changed, not just because of her, but everything in this hard world. Will you recognize me when we meet? Will you still want me, when you were already so uncertain before?
> 
> I suppose I shan’t know until you’re here, or we find a way home. Given the Exarch’s record, the former seems more likely. And it still worries me, much as I know it’s the better course to preserve all we hold dear...

* * *

Aeryn stared out the window for a long moment; she had known of his doubts, his fears; when she had arrived and finally found him again, it had been difficult. Yet despite everything, they had gotten past it.

She eyed the final bundle, slimmer than the rest, those dates seeming so heavy though she had no conscious recollection of them, given her state at the time. Having finished the tea, she poured a glass of water and began to read.

* * *

> Aeryn,
> 
> Ryne assures us you will still _be_ Aeryn when you wake; her wards hold for now. I pray long enough to find a cure for what those bastards did to you. What _we_ did to you, unknowing. Will you be pleased to know I have not struck Urianger for his part? I was too tired and injured as we returned, and occupied with carrying you besides. Now I simply am too weary in heart and mind to conjure that initial anger, and he has had time to explain how the Exarch coerced him into his confidence.
> 
> I am still not happy about it.
> 
> For five years I waited to see you again, thought about you through many days and most nights--such as they are, here. It’s funny what one can become accustomed to in time. Finally seeing you again was a jolt to every one of my senses as the _missing_ you had long since become more real to me, much as I longed for your presence.
> 
> And as I feared, you hesitated. I don’t blame you; I know this place changed me. What we had back home was still so new, despite the prior years we had known each other. So I tried to be content to merely be in your company once more. We had rebuilt our friendship once, we could do it again. I had been a fool to think I deserved more.
> 
> Then you sought me out in Rak’tika. Do I need to tell you how you intoxicated me that day? I hope I was a comfort, both in words and in the release you needed. The distance still felt too great, but this much, at least, I could give. I thought it would be enough, to simply be what you needed in the moment.
> 
> I know now that I was once again fooling myself.
> 
> These last few months traveling and fighting and just being together have been a strange mix of stress and relief; our mission had been dangerous and difficult in so many ways, and yet working together, it was hard not to get caught up in the optimism, in the feeling that things would turn out, that we would find a way.
> 
> And you were here; your quizzical headtilts, your faces when you read, the white flowers in your hair. Your silences, your laughter, your strength in combat and your helping with every common chore in the vicinity. I thought I could simply be happy to bask in your steady light.
> 
> But now, seeing it tear you apart, it is not enough; it never was, and never will be. I can live with it, should that be your wish. My wish, however, is to continue what we had once begun. To hold you close not only occasionally but always.

* * *

Aeryn felt a hard lump in her throat; there was a decent space between the lines, the ink thick where he had hesitated, the initial letters shaky. Still he had written them:

* * *

> I am in love with you, Aeryn.
> 
> It’s taken me time to collect myself after rereading what I just wrote and fighting the urge to burn the whole page. A part of me fears that you will scoff, though the greater part of me knows--hopes--better of you.
> 
> And the gods know you deserve better than me, but if you’ll have me, I certainly won’t complain.
> 
> I know after everything with Ryne I ought to say it to you aloud. That it may already be too late to do so. I pray that isn’t the case. I pray I find the courage and the words both to say what you deserve to hear. Even should you never reciprocate; if that should be the case, you shall never hear another whisper from me on the matter.
> 
> But I hold out a small hope, that you will, that you do. That we will have the chance to discuss the matter further. That you survive.
> 
> I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I only know I’ll be at your side until the end; there’s nowhere else I can be.
> 
> Ryne is calling; hold on just a little while longer, darling.
> 
> Yours always, Thancred.

* * *

She covered her face with her hands, emotions and memories flooding over her. There _were_ words before finally confronting Emet-Selch in his memory of Amaurot. More than words on returning to the Crystarium, bodies twined together in relief and comfort.

Then she had returned to the Source to report their success. She came back to the First as quickly as she could, though; not only was there still much work to do, but _he_ was here, and things were...not exactly different, but not quite the same, either.

As she reread the last page, she noticed a swiftly written addendum on the back. She turned it over.

* * *

> I carried these letters all the way to the Tempest, thinking if I failed to say anything I might at least give them to you--they are yours, after all. But of course no time seemed right, and with a screwing of my courage (and pointed prodding from Urianger), at the last I was able to say what I wished. Miraculously, you said it too.
> 
> And now here we are, you peacefully asleep while the night sky wheels overhead and I still hear the celebrations outside despite the ungodly hour. I’ll rejoin you in a moment, but I needed some time to attempt to process the last few days. What happened in the Tempest. The fact you’re alive, and healthy, and claim to love me in return.
> 
> I’m not entirely certain why, but I won’t complain, either.
> 
> Rereading these letters, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to hand them over yet. They’ll return to their box for now, and perhaps in a few days I’ll be ready to show you.

* * *

Aeryn laughed lightly; of course he had hesitated to share them. The letters showed all his vulnerabilities behind the serious, confident facade he had developed. And with everything in the Empty, and then Elidibus, it was no wonder the letters had fallen to the wayside.

Until her actual nameday on the Source had come around, his note delivered with her breakfast by Tataru per Thancred’s instructions while he was on his latest reconnaissance. It wasn’t as if he could have brought the letters with him, after all--nor given them to her in front of the rest of the Scions in the Ocular, nevermind how public their relationship was now.

She rubbed her face--she had cried more than a few times while reading--and replaced the letters in the box. She locked it, and pocketed the key.

The girls were still out so it was no trouble to take the tea service to the sink and clean it, along with the other dishes, giving her time and activity to settle. She finished by washing her own face, removing some evidence of her emotion.

Since the first year she had joined the Scions, they had given each other gifts; she had discovered his nameday from Minfilia, gifting him the orchestrion roll of a song she knew he liked from a favorite minstrel. Her own first nameday as a Scion had been missed due to Lahabrea and Baelsar’s schemes, but Thancred was certain to make up for it. Sometimes they were late, or even early, but they always managed a little something, even as friends.

Aeryn took the box with her as she left Ryne’s apartment. She still had a few people to see while here on the First--starting with Lyna and the messages from G’raha--but then she would retire to her own suite in the Pendants and do a bit of rereading.

And maybe a bit more once she returned home, too; after all, if she timed it right, it would still be her nameday, and the best time to reread her present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed the 15th by a couple hours Central US time but it's still the day somewhere, right? This started an entirely different way, got 3k words in and realized I was telling it from the wrong angle, started on this, snagging parts from the initial piece, and lamenting at how darn long and wordy it is and feeling like I could have gotten in more details, like some of the poetry, but that's rough for me on a good day. So here we are; Aeryn now has physical evidence of what a pining nerd her fella is.


	25. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadowbringers 5.0 Ending: Revels and discussion after Amaurot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Originally posted to Tumblr for Febhyurary 2021._  
>  \--

“There’s the hero of the hour,” Thancred said as he ambled over. The child Aeryn had been speaking with waved and dashed off, eager to share with his friends whatever secrets the Warrior of Darkness had divulged. Thancred watched him go, smiling, before turning back to Aeryn.

She shook her head. “I’ve had my fill of accolades tonight,” she said. “What about you? Not joining the festivities?” She gestured down to the Exedra, where many of the Crystarium’s residents still laughed, danced, and sang in thanksgiving.

Thancred sighed dramatically and shrugged. “I thought to indulge in a little revelry myself...until Urianger began to list all the names of my drunken conquests. I’ve been drinking water. _Water_.”

Aeryn laughed. “Ryne was within hearing, was she?”

“Our colleague seems to be of the opinion I must be respectable for her sake.”

“Also Urianger just enjoys tormenting you.”

“That too.”

Aeryn stretched. “Where is Ryne now?” She asked, noting the girl was not at her guardian’s heels.

“The twins have stolen her off once again,” he replied. “‘Tis a good night for them all to unwind as youths ought to.” He frowned a little. “Just not _too_ much like youths are _wont_ to…”

“They’ll be fine, Thancred.”

“Do you have any idea the stories Krile has of Alphinaud’s Studium days? The boy--”

“Reminds you of someone?” She teased, poking his shoulder.

“...Let’s not go there, shall we? Also I have just as many concerns about his sister, truth be told.”

“Ryne can handle either of them,” Aeryn assured him. She ignored the little voice in her head pointing out there was no longer a ghost following her young friends, enjoying their antics, returning to get her attention should anything happen. She stifled a yawn.

“Feeling alright?” He asked, the joking quickly dropping for genuine concern.

“I’m fine; just not up for reveling all night. I might just sneak off to my room.”

“No one would blame you, really, you’ve been through hell. We all have.”

“Want to walk with me?” She asked, before she could lose the nerve.

“You just want me to block unwanted well-wishers as you wend your way to your quarters,” he teased, as he fell into step alongside her.

“You’ve gotten very good at defending the rest of us from so many other hazards,” she said with a grin as they made their way through some of the lesser-trafficked areas of the Crystarium.

The entire city was in a grand mood, however, making even those less common routes busy as others had similar ideas to avoid the impromptu celebrations happening throughout the town. The sunless sea spun overhead, the everlasting light vanquished for good this time. The Exarch was safely returned to his people, and the Warriors of Darkness had triumphed over the Light and the dark figure who had orchestrated its blaze.

All it had cost was one dead man giving up his soul to save hers.

“Something wrong?” Thancred asked. Aeryn realized she had grown quiet, and must have looked a bit too pensive, thinking of Ardbert.

“Not really,” she said, honestly. “Just...I promised I’d explain in full, about the Blade of Light and how I was healed of the Lightwardens’ corruption. Tomorrow, when we’re all together again in the Ocular. I think I’m still attempting to process it all.”

 _He’s not really gone_ , she reminded herself. _He’s always here, now. Emet-Selch would perhaps say as we ought to be--if it hadn’t led to his own…_

“I think I just need a good distraction,” she said. “So much has happened.”

“Well, I’ve been known to be very distracting,” Thancred said with a grin. “A story, a song, an impromptu dance in the yard...Whatever you wish, my lady.”

There was a slight, hopeful thread woven into his lighthearted words. He meant to mask it, she knew, but it resonated with a stirring in her own heart.

Things had certainly changed since Nabaath Areng. There just also hadn’t been much time or opportunity to discuss those changes. At least, she had not been in a good place for...gods, it felt like ages, and yet no time at all, like a fading nightmare.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she replied glibly, as they crossed into the yards of the Quadrivium.

“Why think?” Thancred asked, as music played from the Wandering Stairs. He grasped her hand and pulled her into a spin. She allowed it, laughing as the cape on her jacket flared out behind her. They fell into the rhythm easily, aware eyes were on them and not caring as they danced across the walkway, others following along at various levels of skill but more than making up for it in enthusiasm.

She tried to remember the last time they had danced like this; carefree, at ease with the world and each other--they even laughed as they were bumped into by less surefooted dancers, their own feet stumbling until one of them rediscovered the rhythm and led the other back to synchronous motion.

The Liberation of Ala Mhigo, she recalled finally. It had then led to hiding away from the world and discussing what they meant to one another. So much kept happening that in some ways it still seemed as if they were in those early, tentative days of figuring out their relationship.

Most of a bell passed before they ended up spinning into the Pendants, still giggling over a ronso trying to cut into their dance and nearly sending Thancred off the edge of one of the wide stairs.

“Good thing you’re light on your feet,” Aeryn said as they passed by the front desk. The manager waved them through, other matters holding his attention.

“All part of the plan to see you safely to your quarters,” Thancred replied. “Never was one for such heavy armor and weapons as, say, Hoary Boulder uses, but being quick works.”

“Certainly does. And here we are.”

There was a pause; not entirely awkward, but the expectancy could quickly turn that way.

“Well,” he began. “I suppose--”

“Do you want to come in?” She blurted, feeling her face redden. His brows raised. “I just...after everything...I don’t….”

_The room will be empty. I can’t talk to him about everything anymore, and it saddens me more than I thought, even if he isn’t really gone, I know, he’s still always here…_

Thancred’s hand cupped her cheek, bringing her thoughts to a halt. “I very much do,” he murmured, the mirth faded. “If you wish for me to stay.”

She looked up to meet his golden-brown eyes. “Please stay,” she whispered.

“Very well,” he replied, closing the distance between them for a gentle, drawn-out kiss. He was warm, and solid, and smelled still of the Tempest’s brine and the desperate exertion of that last battle. They were both exhausted messes, but she suddenly did not feel like sleeping.

It was, after all, a night for celebration.


End file.
